


quiet moments (where we fall in love)

by sobsicles



Series: Change One Thing [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec is very protective of Magnus, Banter, Basically it is mostly funny with some soft and a dash of angst, Canon Divergence, Change One Thing series, Clary being a disaster gay, Humor, Jace and Simon go on a date, Jace being driven slowly insane by Simon's fideting, Jace has too many last names and it's frustrating even to him, Jace is unaware that it is a date, Jace's worldview of downworlders changes, M/M, Magnus is living his best life, Set after Simon asks Jace for flirting advice, Simon calls Jace a Lightwood and it is very cute, Simon has a cruuuush, Simon helps Clary get the girl, Somber moments, Valentine is a dick as always, literally right after, no seriously yall, slight angst, sort of canon compliant, things spiral from there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 58,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles
Summary: Simon ends up taking Jace on the date that was meant for Maia, and everything spirals from there.~~~"You're going to regret this," Simon says firmly, standing up from the stool.Jace snorts. "I'm sure I will. Something about you makes me think all your plans are terrible. Where are we going?""You'll see," Simon tells him, throwing him a glance over his shoulder as he walks towards the door.The three hot fairies waiting for him call out his name, but Jace ignores them and follows after Simon without looking back.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood/Maia Roberts, Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Simon Lewis/Jace Wayland
Series: Change One Thing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1460842
Comments: 117
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are again, folks. Jimon takes ahold of me once more, and I'm nothing but a conduit. This is apart of my Change One Thing series! The one thing I changed was that Simon ends up taking Jace on the date he'd meant for Maia. Things change from there ;) 
> 
> (Also yes, I changed my username, as it felt very Supernatural related and I write more than just SPN content these days, but I'll still go by SOBS--hence the sobsicles) 
> 
> Without further ado...
> 
> Enjoy!

The light bustle of the Hunter's Moon plays on in the background of what just might be the funniest moment of Jace's life. Glasses clink, faint music plays overhead, and multiple conversations overlay each other, indistinct but often broken with bright bursts of laughter. Simon is smiling, but not very well, and Jace is _immensely_ entertained by this.

"No, no, you can't smile like _that."_ Jace tries very hard to hold back a snort and fails. "You literally look like you're in pain."

Simon groans and slouches over the bar dramatically, his smile long gone. "Jace," he bemoans, "what's _wrong_ with me? I'm getting desperate here, man."

Jace arches an eyebrow. "Funny, you were singing a different tune not even ten minutes ago. What happened to you having _charm?"_

"Left the building the moment you agreed to be my Obi-Wan." Simon sits up and places his chin in his palm, scowling slightly--more of a pout. "How come you're so good at this, but I've never seen you in a legitimate relationship? Well, outside of Clary."

"Woah, woah, wait a second," Jace says quickly, leaning forward with his eyebrows raised. "First of all, I don't _do_ relationships, as my most recent one falling apart goes to show. Second of all, I'm not teaching you how to get a girl so you can have a relationship with her. This is strictly a teachable moment on how to get a one-night stand. If you want relationship advice, go ask Magnus."

Simon frowns harder. "There's not a girl I want to have a one-night stand with. I'm angling for a _date,_ Jace. Didn't I mention that?"

"Possibly." Jace shrugs shamelessly. "I don't actually listen to you very often. Still, I regret to inform you that you are shit out of luck. There's no way anyone will go on a date with you, unless you trick them."

There's a pause where Simon looks downtrodden, and Jace feels slightly guilty for it. Only slightly, however. He does have appearances to keep, after all. There's no way he's actually going to tell Simon to go out and be himself, even if it probably would work, not when he's made it very clear over their many interactions that Simon is literally The Worst. He can't contradict himself _now,_ that would just succeed in making him look weak--which can't happen.

But, as loathe as he is to admit it, Simon probably _can_ score a date by simply being himself--and not the visage he assumes when he's trying to flirt. None of that _Lewis, Simon Lewis_ bullshit that Jace genuinely can't think about without cracking a smile--a mocking one, obviously. Whatever. The point _is,_ Simon isn't a bad guy, which people generally like, and he's actually, annoyingly enough, pretty funny.

Jace can never tell him this.

"Entrapment is wrong and bad, I'm not going to get a date that way," Simon says firmly, eyeing Jace warily.

"Don't look at me like that. I haven't had to trick anyone, ever. Then again, you're not me."

"Small favors."

"Oh, shut up." Jace sighs and drapes himself over the back of his chair, sizing Simon up. "Okay, I'm fantastic at one-night stands. You get the girl's attention focused solely on you, let your focus be entirely on her, then you show her how much fun you can be. When she's interested, which she usually is, you tell her exactly what you're looking for. Girls, surprisingly enough, value honesty--shocker, I know--and they like the chance to feel special with no risks of deeper involvement. They like you, but they don't have to love you, and _that's_ what I go for. I'll be honest, it can be a hit or miss--some girls aren't interested, but nine times out of ten, they don't have anything better to do."

Simon stares at him like he's a creature from a different planet. "Wait, so your secret to getting women is literally to just _ask?"_

"Yep," Jace replies. "Look, girls are not as complicated as we make them seem. In a relationship, yes. But for a night of fun? Nah."

"I think I'm leaning more towards a relationship."

"Why?"

"Why? _Why?"_ Simon's mouth opens and closes as he tries to form an answer. After a moment, a wrinkle occurs between his eyebrows and his mouth closes entirely. Then he says, "I don't actually know."

"You like this girl?"

"I mean...yes?"

Jace arches an eyebrow and leans forward. "'Kay, I'm gonna ask you again, and this time when you lie, try to sound more convincing. Do you like her?"

"I _do,_ I really do. It's just--okay, don't laugh at me. Look, she's my friend, and I don't want things to be weird. I can't figure out if--if I even want more, but I think I should at least _try,_ right?"

"You talkin' about Clary? Because, listen, I'm not sure if I'm really-"

"No. _No."_ Simon shakes his head quickly, throat bobbing. "I'm a mess, but I'm not _messy._ I'd never ask you advice about--well, your sister now, I guess."

Jace hums low in his throat. "Are you trying to get over Clary by dating someone else?"

"Wh-what, _no,"_ Simon scoffs, face spasming through many different expressions in quick succession. "That's not what's happening, okay? I can't stay hung up on her forever, and I clearly can't _tell_ her how I feel, so I need to get out there. Why not start with someone I actually know and like?"

"Fair enough, but why do you need to jump headfirst into a relationship? Why not start up a friendly fling? I mean, that's a thing these days, you know. I do believe the term is _fuck buddies."_

"Because I need--I can't move on if it's just--"

"You're trying to use someone else to get over Clary. Don't deny it. You probably _think_ you aren't, but that's exactly what you're doing, and any girl you talk to will sniff it out quicker than you can even slap on a smile." Jace rolls his eyes when Simon deflates and averts his eyes guiltily. "Look, that's your first mistake, alright? Listen, I got over Clary pretty quickly, mostly because it'd be weird to be hung up on my _sister,_ but also because I know the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else."

"So, what, I'm supposed to just walk up to a friend and ask if they'd be down to have sex?"

"Yeah."

Simon's eyes bulge. "Oh g--shit, I can't do _that._ Jace, she'd probably hit me in the face or something."

Jace snorts. "Everyone wants to do that," he says, smirking when Simon narrows his eyes. "But I seriously doubt she would if you just go to her and explain that you want to have no-strings-attached fun, ask if she's interested, and if she says no, you move on. The _worst_ that can happen is you'll get rejected, but you have to be used to that by now."

"You're, like, _really_ mean," Simon mutters sullenly, pouting slightly as he sags down at the bar. "You're supposed to be helping me, asshole."

"Okay, fine. Look at me." Jace leans forward, smoothing his face out into a small, genuine smile. Simon looks at him and blinks in surprise, which is fair because Jace is currently putting on his kindest expression. "Listen, I have wanted to ask you something for a while now, but I don't want to come off as a prick, so just bear with me, okay? We're friends and I think we could have fun together, if you were into more of a...hmm, a friends with benefits kind of situation. If you're not, that's cool, but I figured it couldn't hurt to ask. What do you say?"

Simon blinks slowly. "Okay," he rasps.

Jace tosses his head back and _laughs._ That usually works out in his favor, but he hadn't expected it to work so well _now._ Simon isn't capable of blushing--no rushing blood in his body--but he outwardly shows his embarrassment by ducking his head and fidgeting. It takes a moment, but Jace eventually settles down and smiles openly at Simon, who looks as if he's waiting for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

"Told you," Jace says smugly, "works every time. If I can get _you_ to agree to sex, knowing you don't like me all that much, then you'll probably manage to score with your friend."

Simon's head snaps up. "I wasn't--that's not _fair._ It's not my fault that I have fully functioning eyes, okay? You try not getting caught up in...well, _you."_

Jace rolls his eyes. "I'm not surprised, honestly. Like I said, you're not me, and you'll probably manage to screw all of this up, but hey, it'll be fun to watch. Are you sure you don't want to try and trick someone?"

"No," Simon says miserably, knowing a lost cause when he sees one. "I think I'm just going to call it a night. You can, you know--" He waves a hand flippantly, shoulders slumping. "--go back to your three hot girls."

Glancing over his shoulder, Jace takes in the three fairies who are still patiently waiting on him, batting their eyes and smiling. For a split second, he has the very dumb idea that maybe he should offer Simon to join in, to have fun and let loose with him and the three fairies. He banishes that thought _immediately,_ because absolutely not, no, never.

Jace turns back towards Simon, staring at him, a frown tugging at his lips. Simon looks so...down. Just _unhappy._ It, surprisingly enough, makes Jace feel the same way, maybe out of guilt, maybe out of solidarity, but very much there all the same. It takes him a moment to realize that he doesn't want Simon to be _that_ upset, and that doesn't shock him that much--he never has, really, not even when Simon was just a mundane slapping money on a table after a lost bet and walking away, bitter and downtrodden. That hadn't set right with Jace either.

When Simon goes to slide off the stool with a sigh, Jace's hand snaps out to catch his arm without his permission. Simon pauses, blinking at him, and Jace pauses, blinking back. For a moment, in silence, they just stare at each other in open surprise and confusion.

But, really, Jace knows what this is. He's been feeling unhappy himself lately, between the whole situation with Clary and leaving the institute after his demotion. He hasn't laughed or smiled--a genuine smile that's not faked, anyway--since he's moved in with Magnus, not until tonight with Simon.

His life is pretty much shit on all accounts right now, but Simon has been...fun, and Jace doesn't really want that to end. Not yet. Not now. Now when he's just starting to feel a bit better. He doesn't want Simon to leave, and frankly, if he has to give up the three hot girls waiting for him to get Simon to stay, he will.

"I have a free night, Simon," Jace says, dropping his arm and slapping on a smirk. "Don't give up yet. I have plenty more to teach you. Didn't you have plans?"

"I did, but I'm not going to do that anymore. Like you said, it probably won't go well, and Ma--my friend will most likely just realize that I'm not over Clary yet. I shouldn't try and use her to do that, anyway," Simon mutters, lips tipping down further.

Jace nods. "Yeah, probably best not to, but that doesn't mean you have to cancel your plans. I'll go with you."

Simon blinks at him, lips parting. "But...the three hot girls?" he blurts out in confusion.

"There will be three hot girls later," Jace says simply, shrugging casually. There probably will, but he doesn't really care either way. "So, what are we doing?"

"Uh, Jace, my plans were kind of a--well, I had planned out a--" Simon stops, seeming to search for the right word, fidgeting again.

"Simon, I don't give a shit who your plans were for. They probably suck, knowing you, but I'm happy to give a blow-by-blow of all the things wrong with it. So, let's go," Jace tells him, waving a hand, eyeing Simon with a challenge glittering in his gaze.

The reaction is instantaneous. Simon snaps up straight, eyes narrowing, a challenge sparking in his own gaze in response. Jace has always enjoyed that about Simon, that he can get a rise out of him mostly always. It's just _fun,_ and it never fails to make Jace feel energetic, nearly excited for whatever Simon will throw at him next.

"You're going to regret this," Simon says firmly, standing up from the stool.

Jace snorts. "I'm sure I will. Something about you makes me think all your plans are terrible."

"Uh huh," Simon says dismissively, looking around the bar with a squint before turning his entire focus on Jace, clapping his hands together. "Have you eaten?"

"Have I--what?" Jace frowns. Has he? He tries to remember the last time he--oh, yeah, Magnus managed to badger him into eating breakfast this morning.

"Dinner, Jace, have you had dinner?"

"I had breakfast."

Simon rolls his eyes. "That's not dinner. Alright, we're not...doing this here. Come on."

"Where are we going?" Jace asks, slipping off his own stool after throwing back his drink.

"You'll see," Simon tells him, throwing him a glance over his shoulder as he walks towards the door.

The three hot fairies waiting for him call out his name, but Jace ignores them and follows after Simon without looking back.

* * *

It's a little nippy out as they walk through the streets, and Jace shoves his hands in his pockets as he keeps pace with Simon. They don't end up going very far, just up a block where Simon steps up to the curb and waves a hand at a taxi that slows and pulls up to the curb. Jace hesitates for a moment before sliding in, but eventually decides that he can find his way back if he needs to, and it's actually pretty warm in the car when he eases his way inside.

As soon as he shuts the door, the taxi takes off, Simon having already told the driver where they're going, and Jace is tempted to ask again. He doesn't want to show just how curious he is, however, so he keeps his mouth shut and looks out the window.

They sit as far apart as they can get, both facing away from each other, not saying a word. Simon's leg bounces at vampire speed, which Jace is pretty sure he doesn't realize, but for the sake of keeping the silence, Jace says nothing. He likes the quiet, sinking into the comfort of the rattling taxi that jostles him over the multiple potholes on the road. It's nice not to have to talk, and it's not like he's itching to talk to _Simon._

Magnus likes to talk. _A lot._ Even as just background noise as he works, narrating every little thing he's doing. ("Clink, clink goes the spoon in my coffee," he'll say, fingers flicking as his magic sparks and stirs his drink. As he turns the page of the book he hasn't looked up from, he'll hum and murmur, "On to the next line. So, so many words, and the endless beauty in not knowing them all.")

Alec, who's not a man of many words, finds this mostly amusing or adorable. He also has been talking more, but that's more for Jace's sake than anything. ("The Institute just isn't the same without you," he'll mutter awkwardly. Glancing at Magnus like he has to check that he's doing this talking thing right, he'll continue, "How've you been? I hear you're, uh, restarting book club.")

Izzy will call to check in, chattering his ear off to fill the silence of everything they're avoiding talking about. ("I don't know, Jace. A red matte lip just looks better than gloss on me, right? Or maybe I should go with black? No, maybe a different dress?" she'll ask. When he hums noncommittally through an answer, she'll click her tongue and say, "And my _hair._ Up or down? Maybe a braid? No, that takes too long. Up, definitely up. Hey, can I use the shampoo you left?")

He knows they mean well, all of them, and he's thankful that they're _trying._ The problem is, this isn't something that will get better with talking. Everything Jace has held dear recently has been snatched from him--Clary, his job, his home. Talking about it won't change anything, and it's just become an awkward fumbling to try and avoid those topics, except those are things that feature in everyone's daily lives, save for Magnus. Weirdly enough, Magnus is the only one that Jace can talk to without feeling like he wants to rip his hair out, but Magnus is also the only one with zero qualms about bringing up the things Jace _doesn't_ want to talk about.

"Here you are," the driver calls out, pulling to a stop.

Simon's leg stops bouncing as his head snaps up. He pushes his hips up to grab his wallet, passing over the money with a, "Thanks, man."

Jace slips out of the car when Simon waves him out. He peers around with a frown, glancing around the mostly empty street. He doesn't think he's been to this part of town, weirdly enough, though missions have put him all over the city before. Most of the people he's catching sight of are elderly, and the only thing that grabs his attention is the flickering sign for a laundromat.

"Where are we?" Jace asks, throwing Simon a look of suspicion, shoving his hands in his pocket.

Simon starts up the street. "Just come on."

Silently, Jace follows him. They don't go very far, just past the laundromat. There's what appears to be a house with a blue door, and Simon easily meanders up the steps, shoes clapping against the wooden porch. Something about this house reminds Jace of an assisted living place for the elderly--the homely rocking chairs on the porch, the soft painting, the smell of flowers from the bushes lining the side of the building. He has no _idea_ why this is what his brain immediately conjures up, especially when they step inside and the place is very much _not_ that.

It's apparently a restaurant, though Jace hasn't ever been to one where it's inside a home. He can make out the stairs that's closed off with one rope and a sign swinging that says _Employees Only,_ and what must have used to be the large living room has been turned into a dining room. Circular tables with baby-blue tablecloths litter around the room, each one with a candle lantern in the middle. The smell of what _has_ to be delicious food hits Jace's nose and makes it twitch against his will, saliva filling his mouth in response.

"Simon," Jace says cautiously, "where are we?"

"A regular, mundane restaurant," Simon chirps pleasantly. He turns to look at Jace with a broad grin, clearly amused. "Welcome to The World Hub, the best kept secret in New York City. It _also_ happens to be the place where you can get genuinely good cuisine from all over the United States."

"What do you mean _best kept secret?"_ Jace asks, narrowing his eyes as he cranes his neck and peers around.

"Well, they don't really advertise. Nothing online can lead you here, they don't do take-out, and the only way you can find this place is by word-of-mouth. It's actually pretty cool." Simon shrugs and looks around. "The owners have been running this place since the fifties, so they're a little resistant to change, but the idea is great."

Jace blinks, looking around. "Oh. Huh. So, this was your plan? To come here when you can't even eat?"

Simon opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, a man with greying hair and homely blue eyes steps up behind the host-stand, snatching up two menus with a bright smile.

"Welcome to The World Hub," the man says. "I'm Roger and I'll be your server this evening. Just two?"

"Yes, thank you," Simon answers with a kind grin.

Roger beams at them and waves them on, leading them to a smaller table in the corner. Once they're situated, Roger leaves off to go get their drinks, and Jace ends up glancing at the menu and then getting distracted by it.

There really is food from all over the United States here. Everything from philly-cheesesteak from Philadelphia, Gumbo from New Orleans, to a pork roll from New Jersey. Something popular from some states, all of them wildly different and intriguing. Jace actually hasn't had most of this stuff, but he has to admit--internally, of course--that this is actually a good idea for a restaurant.

"How did you hear about this place?" Jace finds himself asking, glancing up at Simon, who picks at the corner of his menu awkwardly.

Simon gives a half-shrug. "My mom knew about it. She took me and Becky here a lot when we were younger to try and broaden our horizons, I guess."

"Did she?"

"Did she...what?"

"Broaden your horizons?" Jace echoes, raising his eyebrows curiously.

"No, I guess she didn't," Simon murmurs, looking back down to his menu with a small frown. "I always ordered the same thing--Chicago pizza. The last time I came here, I promised her I would try something new when we came back, but now… Well, ya know."

Jace feels a vast sense of discomfort, only worsening by the punch of pity that slams into his gut. He clears his throat and asks, "So, what would you have ordered? If you could try something new, I mean."

Simon purses his lips and glances at the menu for a long moment, then his lips twitch up. "Burgoo," he says decisively, looking at Jace with an amused curl to his lips. "From Kentucky. With a name like that, it can only be really good or really bad. Either way, at least I'd be able to say that I did it."

"Burgoo," Jace repeats flatly, flipping his menu to read the dish under Kentucky.

"Burgoo," Simon agrees with a solemn nod, though his eyes glint with amusement.

Before Jace can properly mock Simon for his choices--and hair, if he can slip that in there--Roger comes back to the table with their drinks. The kind man lingers for a moment to see if they're ready to order, and Simon looks at Jace patiently.

"What are you getting?" Jace asks Simon, arching an eyebrow.

Simon's only tell of annoyance is the way his smile becomes a little fixed. "Chicago pizza," he says, glancing sheepishly at Roger. "Just...one slice, please."

"Of course," Roger says cheerfully. He glances over at Jace. "And for you?"

After a beat, Jace just says, "The Burgoo, please."

"You got it," Roger chirps, reaching out to take the menus, his smile warm. "That will be coming right up."

As Roger walks away, Jace flicks a quick glance to Simon, a little wary. He knows why he ordered that, and he doesn't really want to acknowledge it. Simon, thankfully, is looking down at the table with a small smile, and he doesn't seem to have anything to say.

That's not to say the rest of the meal passes in silence. Jace isnt a stranger to quiet, and he often prefers it, but the same can't be said about Simon. From across the table, Simon looks severely uncomfortable with each passing moment where they're not speaking. He doesn't really seem to do well with sitting still, unfilled silences, or awkward moments.

He lasts all the way up until the food comes out. The moment Roger walks away, he blurts out, "Do you even like your job?"

Jace isn't sure how Simon ended up thinking up that question, and he actually sounds a little confused, like he genuinely wants to know. No one has asked Jace this before, so he blinks a little in surprise. For a moment, the question brushes through his mind, _do I like my job?_ Before he even blinks again, he knows the answer.

"Yeah," Jace answers simply.

Simon picks at his pizza, watching him with a small frown. "Really? Like, you _actually_ enjoy it? The near-death experiences, the ugly monsters, the annoyingly determined redhead upending your life?"

"I do." Jace's lips twitch. "I'm good at it, what I do. Clary was a surprise, I'll admit, but without her...I think the Shadow World would be a lot worse off right now."

"So, what about...you know, killing things?" Simon asks, lowering his voice as he leans forward a bit. "The demons, specifically. You don't get...scared?"

Jace picks up his fork and starts swishing it in his bowl of Burgoo. "No, not really. I get frustrated if I don't handle it in time, but that's about it. You gotta remember, I've trained my entire life for this."

"Okay, but you could die. That doesn't ever worry you?"

"Nah. We all die at some point. If I die trying to kill a demon, then at least it's cooler if I die in my sleep. What, did you worry about dying before you died?"

"Well, no," Simon admits, rolling his eyes, "but I was nineteen and in perfect health."

"You still could have been hit by a car. Choked on some pizza. Mugged. You know, normal ways to die, mundane ways. But that's just a part of life, right?" Jace raises his eyebrows at Simon. "There's always that chance, but you didn't worry about it. It's the same with me."

"Except with demons."

"Exactly."

Simon clicks his tongue and watches Jace take his first bite of the Burgoo. "How is it?"

"It's new," Jace allows, licking his lips with a small furrow in his brow. "Not bad, not great, just...new."

"Yeah," Simon says wistfully, glancing down at his uneaten pizza. He clears his throat. "And, ya know, I actually did worry about dying. Not--not like I did when I was _actually_ about to die, but still. I was a hypochondriac, always worried I was sick when I wasn't. I got a headache once and had myself convinced that I had brain cancer three hours later."

Jace stares at Simon in confusion. _"Why?"_

"Well, I googled the symptoms, which you should _never_ do, by the way, and I thought--"

"No, why did you worry so much?"

"Oh." Simon looks at him with a faint grin, but it quickly fades. "Uh, my dad, I guess. Levi Lewis, hell of a man. He, um, got cancer. We...didn't know, didn't see it, and then we found out. Then, just like that, it was like the cancer was all we could see, like it was catching up to him. And then he, you know, died. I always thought that if we caught it earlier, if he went to the hospital more, or I paid attention when he said he felt bad, maybe he'd have fought it in time. So...that's why, I guess."

"The cancer killed him," Jace murmurs.

Simon huffs a bitter laugh. "Actually, it was a heart attack that took him, in the end, but the cancer was what spurred it on, I think." He shakes his head, a smile lacking humor flashing across his face. "There's irony to my situation, though. I was so worried some disease would kill me, and then I died by _vampires,_ and now there's not a disease in the world that I have to worry about. Kinda funny, don't you think?"

"No, not really," Jace says bluntly. "I think you spent too much of your mundane life in fear. It carries over into this life, but people with too much fear don't last in the Shadow World, not for long."

"Like you're not scared of _something."_ Simon tears a small piece of pizza off and lifts it to his lips, eyeing Jace in open curiosity. "Everyone is afraid of something, Jace, even you."

Jace watches Simon choke down the pizza, feeling a little guilty for pushing him to order anything. He reaches over to Simon's plate without a word, tearing off a good chunk of the slice and eating it so Simon won't have to. This goes unacknowledged as well, thankfully.

As Jace chews, he contemplates Simon's question. This isn't the kind of conversation he ever expected to have with Simon, of all people, and he's a little uncomfortable with getting to know a bit more about him. This topic, specifically, is dangerous territory for him. He doesn't talk about the things he's scared of--not many Shadowhunters do--even if he knows exactly what they are. Valentine is easily one of his biggest fears, right up there with failure, but he sure as hell isn't going to talk about that, especially not to _Simon._

"Sometimes," Jace says finally, "I have these nightmares that I'll wake up with no hair. Does that count?"

Simon snorts and rolls his eyes. "I know you're deflecting, Jace. I mean, sure, you being bald is a nightmarish image, no doubt, but still. It's almost like you're scared to be vulnerable or something," he muses, arching an eyebrow at Jace in open triumph.

"Or," Jace suggests, "maybe I'm just not scared of anything. That, and you're probably the last person on the earth I'd bare my soul to."

"I don't want you to," Simon tells him calmly, "but it's nice to know you're not capable of it. Here it is, I found the one thing you can't do. Looks like real life Captain America doesn't know how to open himself up."

"Still don't know who that is." Jace takes another bite of his Burgoo--it's actually pretty good. "And it looks like I have another thing to add to the long list of things you _can't_ do. Looks like real life disappointment doesn't know how to close himself off, not even a little, not even to me. Shocker."

Simon eyes him in amusement. "I know you think you just insulted me, but it's actually pretty funny that you think you know me, even a little bit."

"I know your dad died from a heart attack."

"Yeah, and I know your dad is an egomaniac racist with bad parenting skills."

Jace scowls at him. "That's common knowledge, Simon, doesn't mean you know me."

"Exactly. Just because you know things _about_ me doesn't mean you know me," Simon says sharply. There's something harsh in his gaze, something mean, something like disdain. "Whatever you think about me, you're wrong. You don't know me and you never will."

For some reason, those words are a little unsettling, and it makes Jace annoyed. Here Simon is, acting like he's some kind of enigma, a mystery Jace will never solve, as if he even cares to. He's wrong, is the thing.

"I do know you," Jace counters, glaring at him. "I wish I didn't, but I do. The sarcastic best friend thrust into a world you'll never actually fit into, the tragic guy pushed to the side in every way possible. That's who you are."

"Oh yeah?" Simon looks amused now, like Jace's summary of him is just a pathetic joke. He grins, eyes bright with delight. "Tell that to Burgoo."

Jace snaps his mouth shut.

Burgoo. _Fucking Burgoo._ Jace knew that would come back to bite him in the ass.

He wishes he didn't understand what Simon is getting at, but he does. How can Simon not fit into the Shadow World when it affects every aspect of his life now? He can't eat, can't walk in the sun, can't hug his family without worrying they will feel his heart not beating. How can Simon be pushed aside at every turn when even Jace finds himself doing things--eating Simon's pizza because he can't, ordering Burgoo to try for him because he'll never be able to--with Simon in mind?

"Yeah, well, it tastes terrible," Jace mutters, glaring down at his bowl. He takes another bite.

Simon laughs.

* * *

The rest of dinner passes in stilted conversation, random observations dropped into the ocean of silence between them. They don't talk about anything, really. Simon tells him about the owners of The World Hub, Jace asks questions every now and again to keep the subject on something he doesn't really have to pay attention to.

When they leave, Jace hops down the steps and turns to Simon with his eyebrows raised. "So, those were your plans? Go to a restaurant you can't even enjoy? Pretty depressing, if you ask me."

"Oh, the night isn't over yet," Simon tells him, placing his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows. "Plan number _two_ consists of a little walking."

Jace sighs and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "I did say all your plans would be terrible. Lead the way, Lewis."

"Come with me, Lightwood," Simon shoots back, a smug smile stealing over his face as he heads up the street.

The night is still young, so as they head more towards the busier city, the bustle of people and nightlife grows. They end up pressed shoulder-to-shoulder as they avoid groups of people walking past, none of them paying attention as they take up a good portion of the sidewalks. Simon points out a few places he's been or wanted to go, launching into stories that eventually taper off when he notices something else and gets excited again. It's kind of endearing, and Jace finds his lips twitching in amusement despite his best efforts.

As much as Jace hates to admit it to himself, he's actually not having the _worst_ time. He supposes that's the entire point, in a way. He's the one who wanted to spend more time with Simon, even if it was just to mock him at every turn, something that apparently lifts his mood. It would displease Clary that he's doing this, Jace thinks, to know that he enjoys riling Simon up and finds himself in better spirits with every bickering war they get into. But Jace doesn't care. Clary isn't anything to him anymore, can't be, just a sister he never got to have and never will.

It's a strange, bizarre world when things are simpler with Simon Lewis than they are with Clary Fray.

"Dave and Busters?" Jace asks when they stop in front of said building. "Isn't that a restaurant? We just ate--or, you know, _I_ just ate."

Simon stares at him. "You've never--of course you haven't. Okay, so I'm about to _blow your mind._ We're not here for the food, man. Come on."

Jace doesn't like not knowing things, but at the same time, he's never really cared to know about _mundane_ things. Despite this, his eyes are narrowed curiously as he follows Simon in, glancing around as soon as they enter the room. It becomes apparent almost immediately what they're doing here, and Jace doesn't stop himself from rolling his eyes in disbelief.

Simon _would_ have plans to play games. So lame.

"What is this?" Jace asks as Simon holds out a card for him to take.

"It's how you'll play the games. You slide it into the slot, then you can play the game," Simon tells him. When Jace just stares at him blankly, he rolls his eyes. "I'll show you. Come on. We're starting with air hockey because I'm one hundred percent going to win."

"I don't even know what air hockey _is,_ and I already know you're not going to win," Jace snarks, following after Simon with a smirk.

Simon glances over his shoulder with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Be prepared to eat your words."

Jace is not at all prepared to eat his words, mostly because he didn't think he'd _have to,_ so he fumbles around his protests the first time Simon kicks his ass at air hockey. He watches, gaping, as Simon celebrates his success with raised arms and bright laughter. Jace stares at the smile, at the vibrancy of it, at the delight in his eyes… Simon looks like a complete dork.

"This is stupid," Jace declares, gesturing to the table.

Simon ambles around the table to beam at him, nudging him with his elbow. "Ah, don't feel bad. You're talking to the reigning air hockey champ, here. No one else can beat me either."

"You know what?" Jace reaches out to clap Simon on the shoulder. "I'm going to let you have this one because you don't really have any other achievements."

"Gee, thanks," Simon says flatly. He huffs and grabs his card. "Come on, let me show you skee ball."

Skee ball, as it turns out, is better suited for him. Jace has very good aim, plus it's not that much different than throwing daggers. Different weight distribution and roll of the wrist, but the concept is pretty similar. He actually ends up getting a pretty hefty amount of tickets from a high score, and he fully expects Simon--who doesn't get nearly as many--to be annoyed with his success.

Instead, Simon gathers all the tickets up with a whoop, straightening them out and telling Jace to go again. It's at the moment that Jace realizes they're not meant to be competing to see who will get the most tickets. No, they're supposed to be working together to get a high amount between them. The games they play against each other is the only exception to this rule, apparently.

For example, there's a game where he has to throw balls into a red hoop--inspired by basketball, he thinks--and he ends up playing the first round alone. There's only one lane open because other people are on the others, so Simon stands behind him and rotates between teasing him for the shots he misses and commending him for the shots he makes. But Jace eventually finds his rhythm and starts making each shot as the timer clicks down, chuckling as Simon starts getting excited about the amount of tickets they'll get.

The guy in the lane next to them looks over between his own shots and stares at him, his face scrunched up like he's not sure Jace is real. "Dude," is all he says.

Jace just shrugs at him, then makes the next three shots with quick precision that has Simon laughing in delight. When the tickets spit out after the buzzer goes off, Simon grabs his arm and smacks it in his enthusiasm as the machine keeps churning them out until they pool onto the floor into a stack. The guy next to them looks at them sadly, taking the handful he's earned.

Alternatively, all teamwork is cut short when they stand in front of a screen that shows a game called _Fruit Ninja._ Simon explains how to play it, but can't explain the point of it. Jace quickly learns there _isn't_ a point and that it's fairly stupid, but that doesn't stop him from getting caught up in it. Realistically, he'll never slice a watermelon with a sword, but virtually? He's actually pretty good at it, even with Simon sabotaging him.

Simon starts shoving him about halfway into the first round, glancing over to see how well he's doing. He's laughing as he does it, fumbling fingers tugging at Jace's jacket and throwing him off balance. It dissolves into a shoving war from there, both of them swiping at the screen and trying to throw the other off.

In the end, Jace ends up winning, and Simon huffs and mutters, "You cheated."

"I didn't." Jace cuts him a flat look. "You shoved me first. If you aren't going to win, don't accept the challenge."

"Alright, wise guy," Simon says, narrowing his eyes. "Come beat me at Pac-Man, or die trying."

Jace has no idea what Pac-Man is, but he shrugs and says, "Should be easy enough. Let's go."

It turns out that beating Simon is _not_ easy enough, and also Pac-Man is the bane of Jace's existence. Simon is infuriatingly good at it, to the point that Jace is reluctantly impressed. Simon basks in his wins, smug and overly pleased, the smile never leaving his face. It's frustrating how his dorky enjoyment is endearing rather than off-putting, but it serves as the right kind of distraction from Jace's fucked up life currently. He counteracts the insistent responding smile on his face at Simon's happiness by mocking Simon's hair, and shirt, and shoes, and pretty much anything he can think of.

From there, they move onto collecting more tickets.

The time seems to slip away, to soften around the edges until it doesn't really matter. Jace walks the entire arcade with Simon, bickering and playing games, the minutes flying by without him noticing. The crowd starts dispersing until only a few people linger, Jace and Simon among them. They're back on skee ball when an employee tells them that they'll be closing soon, so Jace finishes up quickly, snorting as Simon hisses excitedly for every ball he gets in. When the tickets spit out, Simon practically vibrates out of his skin with excitement.

"Dude, you're like the god of skee ball," Simon declares happily, straightening out the mountain of tickets in his hands and beaming at Jace. "You're really good."

Jace ignores that and jerks his chin at the tickets as they start towards the front of the Arcade Area. "So, what do we get for those? Money?"

Simon snorts. "No. You'll see. Look, these are the machines that count the tickets." He passes Jace a long line of tickets. "Here, feed these into the machine as I give them to you."

"You want me to get _rid_ of our tickets?" Jace asks dubiously, frowning at him.

"Just trust me, Jace," Simon says in faint amusement.

With a sigh, Jace takes the tickets and works them into the slot. The machine whirs, then clamps down on the tickets and starts snatching them in with a loud scraping and clicking noise that makes Jace jolt in surprise. Simon busts out laughing at him, and Jace throws him a reprimanding look, which makes him attempt--and fail--to stifle his chuckles.

It takes a really long time to bend over and stuff the tickets into the machine, but Simon makes it easy for him by handing them to him already straightened out. They stand there for long enough that most of the people have left, save for a couple who are fighting with a wad of tickets on the other machine.

"Babe," the girl says with a sigh, "you couldn't have straightened them out for me?"

"There's _a lot,"_ the guys replies with a huff, yelping a little as a few tickets tumble to the ground. He dives for them and smiles sheepishly at his girlfriend. "Vicky, I think we have over five hundred here."

The girl--Vicky--snorts. "You could be straightening them out _now._ Like that guy." She jerks her chin towards Simon, who smiles at her. "Look at him, he's got the right idea. Already has them nice and neat for his boyfriend. _That's_ the kind of support I need in a relationship, Greg."

"Oh, is it?" Greg replies with a laugh, thoroughly amused by Vicky's antics. "I'll keep that in mind, babe."

Jace glances back at Simon with an eyebrow arched, only for his lips to spread into a grin at the panicked look on Simon's face. He looks like he wants to protest, but the moment has passed, and he's just left standing there, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide. It's quite possibly the most hilarious thing Jace has ever seen.

The couple eventually manage to get all their tickets in and wander off, leaving Simon and Jace still feeding the machine their's, though they're almost done. It only takes a few minutes longer, then the last ticket disappears, and a slip of paper spits out a few moments later. Jace snatches it and turns to Simon with a smile playing at the edge of his lips.

"So, babe," he teases, "what's this?"

Simon huffs, mortification flashing across his face as he reaches out and takes the paper. "You're literally the worst person I know. And _this_ is the amount of tickets we have. We apparently gathered 867." His embarrassment escapes him quickly, replaced with open excitement. "Holy shit, Jace, we have _so many!_ Do you know what this means?"

"I do not," Jace says plainly.

"It means we have _options,"_ Simon hisses at him, reaching out to grab his arm and yank him away. "Come on!"

Simon chatters on about the prize system, leading him to a counter displaying the very prizes he's talking about. He explains what they can get for the amount of tickets they have, and Jace is mostly sure that the cost of some of these prizes are a little much, but he keeps that to himself. One hundred tickets for a lame bracelet? A thousand for a weird toy? It seems stupid to him, but Simon is obviously excited, so maybe it's a big deal.

They're obviously the last customers in the building, and the guy behind the counter looks _tired._ His smile wanes quickly as he mutters, "What would you like?"

Simon looks at Jace.

Jace shrugs. "Don't ask me. I don't want anything. Pick whatever you want."

"Wait, really?" Simon frowns at him. "You don't want _anything?_ Seriously?"

"Nah, not really," Jace tells him, scanning the multiple prizes behind the counter and under the glass.

Simon apparently is the man with a plan because he hums and looks back at the employee. "Alright, in that case, I've been meaning to get a new guitar pick. And how about that thermos?"

"Alright," the man says, moving to grab that, then stopping by the calculator. After pressing a few buttons, he looks up and says, "That leaves you with 217."

"Right…" Simon chews on his bottom lip, tapping his fingers on the counter. Out of nowhere, he turns to Jace with his eyebrows drawn together. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want anything?"

"Positive."

"It's just that--I mean, you earned most of the tickets."

"Simon," Jace says, amused, "it's fine."

It turns out _not_ to be fine because Simon clearly isn't standing for it. "Okay, I'll pick for you," he declares, as if this is a threat. When Jace just arches an eyebrow in challenge, he smirks. "Fine. What about that purple bear up there, the one with the tie?"

"Uh, sure," the man says, throwing a cautious look between them as he goes to retrieve the medium-sized stuffed animal. He awkwardly sits it on the counter and confers with his calculator again. "You have--"

"Seventeen, I know," Simon rattles off distractedly, looking down at the candy beneath the glass. He looks at Jace out the side of his eye. "Airhead, mystery flavor, please and thank you."

The man nods and ducks down to grab an Airhead in a silver wrapper. He sighs and murmurs, "Your remaining two points will carry over as long as you renew the cards you used today. Thank you and have a good night."

"Thanks, man," Simon says sheepishly, grabbing his thermos and guitar pick. He throws Jace a pointed look, jerking his chin at the bear and candy.

Jace smiles tightly at the man as he grabs his new items, then follows Simon right outside without a word.

"I told you I didn't want anything," Jace mutters, grimacing at the bear in disbelief.

Simon rolls his eyes as he starts trolling up the street, fiddling with his thermos. "Well, too bad. You have things now, you're welcome."

"How soon can I throw this away?"

"You _can't._ We earned that. It's _our_ bear."

Jace scowls and shoves it out at him. "Fine, then you take it. I _really_ don't want it. I'm not a child."

"Dude, you don't have to be a kid to have one of those. Now, shut up and eat your candy."

Sullenly, Jace tucks the bear under his arm and goes about unwrapping the Airhead. It's white, and he tastes it with his eyes narrowed. It makes his face scrunch up, his eyes blinking hard--that can't be anything _but_ pure sugar, and Jace isn't a fan. It's also unnecessarily chewy.

"Oh, no, nope. This is terrible."

Simon snorts and reaches out to take the rest of the candy, throwing it a trash bin as they pass it. "So, not a candy fan. Why am I not surprised?"

"That makes my _teeth_ ache," Jace argues defiantly, smacking his lips as he tries to rid his mouth of the taste.

"It'll pass." Simon fiddles with his thermos some more, turning it over in his hands. He gestures to the bear with his elbow. "So, what's its name?"

Jace stares at him. "I'm not _naming_ it."

"You kinda have to. It's, like, a thing. I had a stuffed elephant when I was a kid. His name was Mr. Trunk, by the way, and I'm pretty sure he's still at my house, in my closet." Simon shrugs like Jace's hands are tied.

"Mr. Trunk," Jace repeats flatly. "How _original."_

"So I take it you're not naming it Mr. Bear."

"No. I'm not naming it _anything."_

"It looks like a...Tim. Yeah, it could pass for Tim."

"Tim? No."

Simon huffs out a laugh, his lips curling up in genuine amusement. "Sheldon? Bernie? Bob?"

"It doesn't look like any of those things," Jace mutters, rolling his eyes. "It's a purple bear with a tie."

"You could call it Magnus Jr. His magic is purple sometimes, plus he wore a tie that one time."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Not for anything in the world," Simon says with a grin.

Jace purses his lips. "Alright, fine. Dave. Dave Buster."

"Oh, wow, and you mocked _me_ for originality." Simon shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. "Sure, name it after the place we got it, whatever. Dave Buster, it is."

Jace is just about to argue with Simon, falling into the regular routine of bickering with him, when a shout catches their attention. Normally, they'd ignore any loud shouts from the streets--it's New York, it's normal--but the voice happens to be calling out Simon's name.

They both turn in unison, and Jace takes in the three guys walking up the street behind them. It's getting late, to the point that people who aren't partying are already safely tucked in bed for the most part. These three guys are obviously mundane, and they seem to know Simon, so Jace finds himself just _slightly_ curious. The only mundanes he's had any interaction with in depth are Clary and Simon, both who ended up not being mundane in the end.

Jace isn't alarmed until Simon grabs his arm, fingers clenching tight around the sleeve of his leather jacket as he whispers, "Oh no."

"Simon fucking Lewis," the guy says loudly, the same one who'd called out a moment earlier. He's grinning, but there's a malicious gleam to his eyes that practically scream trouble. As he and his friends draw closer, he throws open his arms and laughs. "Hey, Lewis, haven't seen you since High School, man."

Simon's fingers tighten on Jace's arm. "A fact I mourn every day, I assure you," he says sarcastically. "You're out pretty late, Liam. And, oh, look at that, you're still hanging out with Jared and Cody. _Fantastic."_

Jace takes in each person as Simon names them off. Liam is obviously no friend of Simon's, but if it weren't for the cruel delight in his blue eyes, he'd look genuinely happy to see Simon. His hair is blond, pulled back into a messy bun, and his nose is a little crooked. Otherwise, he looks handsome--muscular, pretty smile, pretty eyes. The other two--Cody and Jared--aren't nearly as attractive and seem to shadow in comparison, which seems to fit well with how they shadow Liam every step.

"Yeah, not everyone ditches their besties as soon as they get out of school." Liam's eyes flicker over to Jace, scanning him from head-to-toe. "This isn't the redheaded hot piece of ass I expected when I saw your birdnest of hair from across the street. So, what, did she finally find out you were drooling after her and run for the hills?"

Jace's lips part around a surprised burst of laughter that slips out, though it's from the exact opposite of humor. His eyes widen as his fists clench automatically into fists, taking a step forward before he even knows what he's doing. Simon clamps his hand on his arm harder, holding him still, and Jace just now realizes that Simon hasn't been holding onto him for some kind of support, he's been holding him back because he knows that Liam has a _very_ punchable face.

"Liam, dude, you _really_ don't want to go down this road, man," Simon says weakly. "Just...leave it. We'll go our way, and you go yours."

Liam snorts. "What, you full of yourself now? There's no way I'm leaving without a story. You and Red were attached at the hip, so I need to know what made her kick you to the curb. You didn't confess, did you? Tried, but choked, like always?"

Jace does _not_ like this guy. He clenches his jaw.

"You know, this is almost funny," Simon muses, not seeming to talk to anyone in particular. "Not being scared of someone, but being scared for them. I could _actually_ rip your head off, in theory. Huh. Cool."

Jace shoots Simon a warning look, taking in the tension in his shoulders. "We should go," he says calmly.

"We weren't talking to you, blondie," Liam snaps, shooting him a scowl.

"Simon," Jace says again, looking over at him.

"Yeah, yeah." Simon purses his lips. "Just--can I? One thing. It would _literally_ make my entire life."

Jace knows he shouldn't agree. He knows that. It's not right to get involved with mundanes, especially not like _this._ If Alec were here, he'd just walk away, or dismiss the mundanes as insignificant, then he'd yell at Jace for even considering it. But, the thing is, Jace isn't Alec, and Simon _actually_ looks hopeful.

"If it comes back to bite you in the ass, then don't come complaining to me," Jace says finally. He sighs and shakes his head. "I didn't see anything, just so you know."

Simon grins. "Works for me."

"Hey," Liam interrupts sharply, apparently annoyed that he's being ignored, "if you think-- Oh my fucking--JESUS _CHRIST!"_

Jace has to swallow a laugh as Simon darts forward with his fangs extended, hissing menacingly, and Liam loses his composure almost immediately. The three of them stumble over themselves to run away, yelling and cursing as they sprint up the street. Simon grins, turning towards Jace with his fangs still flashing.

"So, friends of yours?" Jace asks, amused.

Simon's fangs flick away, his smile as bright as the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "You could say that, if you'd call a friend someone who makes your life a living hell."

Jace tilts his head. "You don't?"

"Ha!" Simon tosses his head back and laughs, then shakes his head and starts strolling up the street again, seemingly pleased. "No, I definitely don't. Those three were pretty much the worst to me and Clary. Well, more me than her, but she didn't like them that much. I _despised_ Liam, with his stupid blond hair and fit body and--"

"Ahem," Jace interrupts, raising his eyebrows.

Simon rolls his eyes. "Well, you're not as bad, I guess, and you're prettier anyway. But that's part of the reason I didn't like you from the beginning, you know, besides the fact that you were a smug asshole flirting with the girl I was in love with. There you were, blond and perfect, and Clary wasn't hating you like she was supposed to."

"Well, I never called her a redheaded piece of ass," Jace muses, looking over at Simon as they head up the street.

"Yeah, I'll give you that. Even if you were a dick, you weren't a--a _bully."_ Simon's eyebrow creases as he looks over at Jace. "Why'd you let me do that? Isn't that something you're supposed to arrest me for?"

Jace bites back a smile, though his lips twitch. "As if I'd ever arrest you. The day you need to be thrown in jail for being a danger is the day I retire. But, to answer your question, I didn't stop you because I'm not Alec."

"Fair enough," Simon says with a huff of laughter. "I was worried you'd kick his ass then and there. He's kinda perfect at making people want to hit him, and you're not exactly the king of caution."

"I'm not going to fight a mundane."

"You wanted to fight me."

"Nah," Jace says simply, curling his lips down and shaking his head.

Simon arches an eyebrow at him. "When we first met, you were very ready to fight me."

"Simon, I'll never lay a hand on you," Jace tells him seriously, ignoring the faint squirm in his stomach from the truth in his words. "Not to fight you."

"Really?" Simon blinks at him in surprise.

"Really," Jace confirms, then smirks and continues, "it would be like kicking a man when he's down."

Simon sighs. "There it is."

"You said _"was",_ by the way," Jace says casually, looking up at the night sky--no stars are visible, never are.

"What?" Simon asks, looking at him in confusion.

"You said, _'the girl I_ was _in love with',"_ Jace tells him, raising his eyebrows.

Simon blinks and faintly mutters, "Did I?"

"Mhm."

"I'm--I probably didn't mean it like that."

"Maybe. That, or you're over Clary more than you think. Hey, you might not even have to get under someone else to do it," Jace murmurs, his lips quirking up.

"I already know that's not the way to do it," Simon says, leaning over to knock his shoulder into Jace's like they're friends or something. "Maybe you're over her, but it's definitely not because of that."

Jace wrinkles his nose. "Of course I'm over her. She's my sister, Simon. It'd be--you know."

"Yeah, it'd be weird if you weren't, but it's not like you can just...make feelings go away. You'll never look at her like a sister because you once looked at her like...that. And now, you'll never be able to look at her like _that_ because you'll look at her like a sister. Kind of a fucked-up loophole, I guess."

"Either way, we aren't going to be having quality sibling bonding anytime soon."

"Nope." Simon clicks his tongue. "Which, honestly, that sucks for you. I love Becky, she's the best. Having a sister can be...well, it's a lot, but there's no one else in the world who will have your back like they will."

"I know," Jace says simply, "I have Izzy."

Simon blinks. "Right. That's right, you do."

"At this point, I'm just aiming for friends." Jace shrugs and kicks an empty beer can out of his path as they walk along. "With Clary, I mean."

"Well, take it from me, she's good at that."

"I noticed."

They dip into silence, their conversation ending abruptly. Jace just stares ahead, his mind turning over the Clary situation. It still stings, but not as badly as before. Either Simon's blunt honesty and optimism is getting to him, or he's getting better at convincing himself that losing Clary romantically isn't the worst thing that's happened to him. Maybe it's not. He hopes it's not.

Jace finds himself wondering if Simon is actually moving on. The idea seems ridiculous. Simon being in love with Clary is just a known fact at this point, to everyone _but_ Clary, and that hasn't ever been subject to change before. It's always just seemed...set in stone, in a way.

"So," Simon speaks up, breaking the silence, "for my last plan, I need to walk you and Dave home."

Jace _almost_ asks who Dave is, then remembers the stupid bear is still stuffed under his arm. "Oh, by the Angel." He rolls his eyes and shoots Simon a sharp look when he busts out laughing. "Don't worry about it, Simon, I can find my way home."

"No, you're not understanding. That's literally my last plan," Simon tells him seriously.

"Your last plan...was to walk me home?" Jace narrows his eyes at Simon. "That makes no sense."

"No, my plan was to walk _my date_ home, but since you insisted on coming, it looks like I have you, instead."

"You--wait."

Simon grins. "Told you that you'd regret it."

"Did you just--" Jace cuts himself off, his lips parting in pure surprise. "Simon, you took me on a _date?"_

"I tried to tell you, but you didn't listen."

"You never said your plans were a date!"

"I _literally_ told you I was trying to ask a girl out on a date. You knew this." Simon raises his eyebrows, laughter dancing in his eyes. "You have no one to blame but yourself, just so you know."

Jace scowls at him. "You tricked me. I told you that you'd have to trick someone into dating you, and you actually… What happened to it being entrapment?"

"You're the one who suggested it," Simon says, clearly very satisfied with himself. "So, go ahead, rate me. Ten out of ten, would date again?"

"No, never," Jace grits out. "And you're also not walking me home."

Simon snorts. "Too late, man. Magnus' loft is just up there. I brought you the back way. Good thing I know Brooklyn like the back of my hand, huh?" 

Jace whips his head around to find that, sure enough, the back of the loft is peeking through the line of trees. It somehow angers and impresses him in equal measure. He turns to look at the smug smile on Simon's face and valiantly beats down the strangest sense of pride he's ever felt in his life. His face blank, he reaches out and smacks Simon over the head--gently, but still.

"Get away from me before I take back my words on never fighting you," Jace says tightly.

Before Simon can even reply, he turns on his heel and marches towards the apartment. From behind him, Simon calls out, "Tell Dave goodnight for me!"

If Jace smiles a little, so what? No one can see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things to note: 
> 
> 1\. Dave Buster is important, remember him.   
> 2\. Yes, I made The World Hub up.   
> 3\. I will be posting a chapter every day.   
> 4\. There are only four more chapters.   
> 5\. Simon's POV is up next. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! If you enjoyed, don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; they honestly make my whole life. 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, as promised. 
> 
> Enjoy ;)

Simon can feel the quiver of his insides like vibrating guitar strings. He wonders if someone were to try and play him, what sound he'd make. Probably horrific shrieks of terror, just based off of his current mood. 

The thing is, he's practiced this precise moment over and over in his head for years. He can repeat his words backwards and forwards without even a stutter. He's imagined this  _ exact  _ setting, pictured it in his head that this is what it would look like--a calm stroll through the night, the quiet bubble surrounding them, gentle laughter and warm smiles leading up to this. Sure, he's a vampire, Clary's a Shadowhunter, and their lives are  _ nothing _ like he expected them to be, but they got through that together just fine. 

Simon thinks back on what Liam said two nights ago.  _ You didn't confess, did you? Tried, but choked, like always?  _ It's been years, and he's tried to admit his feelings so many times, only to fail every attempt. The words always clog his throat, never making it past his lips, and he swallows them down on an endless loop. Honestly, it's the most exhausting part of his life sometimes. 

But, here they are, and Simon has set himself up with no way out. He'd told Clary that there's something he needs to tell her, and she'll only allow him to beat around the bush for so long before her determination to know will jump out and demand he spill. 

He's right. Not even twenty minutes after he dragged her out for a stroll, Clary turns to him with her eyebrows raised and asks, "So, what did you need to tell me?" 

Every time he's tried to do this before, he's only felt a deep sense of fear and anxiety. Above all, he doesn't want to lose her. She's his best friend. If she rejects him, he can survive that  _ as long  _ as they keep their friendship, and the worry that they won't has been what stops him every time. It's not that he doesn't want to tell her, he  _ does.  _ She deserves to know that she's loved. It's just that the risk has always outweighed the possible reward. 

Her smile slips. "Simon?" she says warily. 

There's something different about this time, though. There's a dash of uncertainty that's never been there before. Being in love with Clary has always felt like a part of him, like he was put on the earth to do that. It's always been second-nature. This is...strange, to stand here and question something he's never had any doubts about before in his entire life. 

_ Is he in love with her?  _

Fuck Jace for complicating things, even as Clary's surprise-brother who  _ literally  _ can't be an obstacle anymore. And yet, because of him, Simon's finding himself in a sense of confusion. A part of him thinks that he's in love with her, has to be, because people don't just fall out of love. But, miraculously, another part of him thinks that maybe he's still in love with her, except he doesn't  _ want  _ to be anymore. In a way, that's the beginning of falling out of love with someone, he thinks. 

No. He's doing this. He  _ has  _ to do this. There's been a lead-up to this moment for  _ years.  _ To just let that go, to miss this opportunity on a doubt, it's pure insanity. 

Simon takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Clary's shoulders. His hands land there and squeeze, then immediately fall away. He swallows thickly. 

"Simon," Clary murmurs, "you're freaking me out." 

"Clary," Simon says, wincing at how formal his voice sounds. He clears his throat and reaches out to grab her arms this time, feeling awkward even as he does it. Again, softer, he repeats, "Clary." 

"Hey, whatever it is, we'll fix it. We can get through it, okay?" Clary smiles at him soothingly, reaching out to pat one of his arms. "Just talk to me." 

The one time. The  _ one  _ fucking time that he's set up and ready to do this, and now he has  _ doubts?  _ He can hear Jace's voice in his head.  _ That, or you're over Clary more than you think.  _ It needles into his ear, curling up in his brain, making him wonder. 

Simon drops his arms, frowning harder. He can't do this. What if he  _ is  _ moving on? Wouldn't that be easier? Just let it pass and never feel the exhaustion of it anymore. Just best friends against the world, a package deal, nothing damaged between them. 

"I--nothing," Simon tells her, huffing out a slightly hysterical laugh. "There's nothing." 

Clary's eyebrows fly up. "Uh, I'm going to have to call  _ major  _ bullshit, Simon Lewis. You clearly have something you were going to say to me." 

"It's really not what you think." Simon wracks his brain for anything he can tell her that she doesn't already know, something to avoid bringing up that he may or may not be in love with her. For some reason, he has the feeling that his indecision on that subject will be offensive. "Uh, I--I was going to say...that I took Jace on a date! Yeah, that. Just--that happened, the night before last. Um, before you two found that angel." 

"You--" Clary's mouth hangs open, her eyes blinking slowly as she stares at him. It takes her a moment to gather her wits _.  _ "You took Jace on a date, and you--you didn't  _ tell  _ me?!" 

Simon suddenly realizes that this isn't a great diversion to his wishy-washy romantic feelings. "It wasn't serious!" he blurts out frantically. "I--the date was for Maia, originally. Not Jace." 

Clary's eyes bulge.  _ "Maia?  _ You like Maia  _ and  _ Jace?" 

"What? No! I mean, well--no!" Simon shakes his head and grimaces. "I was  _ going  _ to ask Maia out, but then decided not to, but Jace pestered me to show him what plans I had for the night. So, I...uh, I did. He didn't even know my plans were a date until the end." 

"So, wait, you took him on a date to--to  _ mock  _ him?" Clary asks, visibly confused. 

"I guess?" Simon shrugs, chagrined. "You would've had to be there. It's complicated." 

"Do you--are you into him?" Clary asks stiffly. 

Simon starts to answer, but snaps his mouth shut when he sees the tension in her shoulders, the upset twist to her lips. "Oh, Fray, you're--you still…" 

"No,  _ gross!"  _ Clary bursts out, but there's panic in her eyes. Harshly, she spits, "He's my brother, Simon!" 

"And I'm your best friend," Simon says firmly, stepping forward to hold her gaze. "Don't lie to me, Clary. First of all, I'm not going to judge you, okay?" 

"It's  _ sick,"  _ Clary chokes out, wrapping her arms around herself as she averts her gaze. "You'll be disgusted with me, Simon.  _ I'm  _ disgusted with me." 

"Well, yeah, incest is disgusting," Simon admits, grimacing when Clary flinches.  _ "But  _ it's not your fault. You didn't know. Jace didn't know. It's going to take some time to adjust, that's all." 

"I wish I didn't have to adjust," Clary whispers, her eyes closing in shame. "That's so--" 

"Normal," Simon cuts her off. "It's still new. You need time, and--and you need someone else." He can't believe he's actually using Jace's advice for Clary right now. This really is a bizarre world. "Maybe there's someone else. Anyone else. You and Jace never even--I mean, you had a kiss or three, right? You never went on a date, never really got to  _ know  _ each other. Do that with someone else, and I promise you, adjusting will come easier." 

"Yeah," Clary says with a short laugh, weakly amused, her eyes opening to flick up and catch his gaze. "My own best friend went on a date with Jace before I did." 

Simon's gaze softens. "If it'll make you feel any better, he lost at air hockey." 

"That does make me feel better, actually." Clary clears her throat and looks down at her shoes briefly. When she looks up, her gaze is steely with determination. "So, someone else, huh?" 

"Yes, definitely." 

"Any ideas?" 

"Oh, you want  _ me  _ to play matchmaker," Simon blurts out, his eyes bulging. He coughs. "Uh, I mean, I can go through a list of people you can try to seduce and fall in love with." He bites his lip. "Guys...and girls." 

"Girls," Clary repeats, seeming to taste the word in her mouth. Her eyebrows furrow. "I've never--I mean, I kissed Maureen that time in tenth grade because of a dare. It was pretty good, I guess." 

"Maureen was your friend," Simon says gently. "You weren't attracted to her like that." 

"Uh huh." Clary narrows her eyes. "And you think there's some girl I  _ would  _ be attracted to like that?" 

"Izzy," Simon says immediately. "Her, or Maia. They're just--I mean, you'd have to be blind not to...you know." 

Clary makes a considering expression. "I concur," she says slowly, then she giggles. "Oh my god, we sound insane, like we're picking out something from a store." 

Simon grins. "So, which one? Come  _ on,  _ everyone is a little gay, Clary. What's the worst that could happen?" 

"I could fall in love, I guess," Clary muses, her eyes dancing with laughter. 

"Nuh uh, that's a  _ good  _ thing, remember? You're trying to adjust from Jace's raw, sexual magnetism." 

"Simon, we don't even know if they like girls." 

"So, I guess you're going to have to find out." Simon winks at her, and reaches out to squeeze her arm, nothing awkward in the gesture. "All jokes aside, I support you no matter what. And, if you want, I'll never trick Jace into going on a date with me again." 

Clary snorts. "No, please do, it'll help me adjust." 

Simon throws his head back and laughs. "Could you imagine? No, that's just too awkward to think about. Me and  _ Jace?  _ Pfft, never going to happen." 

* * *

Simon's phone rings just a little before sunset, waking him up out of a deep sleep. Groggily, he fumbles for his phone and presses it to his ear. Before he can even say anything, Jace's voice cuts through. 

"Do you own a suit?" he asks. 

Simon sits up in a flash. "Who died?" 

"What?" Jace snaps, sounding annoyed. "No one  _ died,  _ Simon. By the angel, you are  _ morbid."  _

"Oh." Simon blinks blearily, his jaw cracking around a yawn as he shuffles around in his bed. "So, why do I need a suit?" He pauses, lips tipping down as he realizes who he's talking to. "Wait, how'd you get this number?" 

"Answer the question," Jace says flatly. "Do you have a suit, or am I going to have to loan you one?" 

Simon snorts. "As if I could fit into one yours." 

"You could." 

"I… That might be true, now, I guess. But, if you must know, I do own a suit. Raphael gave it to me." 

"Good." There's a crackle over the line as if Jace is adjusting his hold on his phone. "You're wearing it for the party Magnus is throwing tonight." 

"I am?" Simon frowns. "Wait, what party? I'm invited?" 

"Yes, this is me inviting you. You're coming," Jace says simply. "I'll see you in an hour." 

Before Simon can say anything else, the line goes dead. He pulls the phone away from his ear, staring at it in confusion. When the screen goes dark, he taps on it and saves Jace's number. It can't hurt to have it. 

With a sigh, he slides out of bed and spends the next hour in a state of confusion as he gets ready for some party he's pretty sure no one actually wants him at. Why  _ Jace,  _ of all people, invited him is still a mystery. It's not like he and Jace are friends or anything. Some near-death experiences together--an actual death, on Simon's part--and a joke-date doesn't mean they're at the level where they can casually invite each other to events. 

Besides, the date wasn't planned with Jace in mind. It was for Maia. The restaurant was chosen carefully, that way she could get food from New Jersey that was actually good. The arcade was because Maia is fun, likes games, and probably would have been pleased to receive a stuffed animal--or amused, at least. 

Instead, he got Jace. To be fair, Simon can admit--even just to himself--that it had been slightly fun. The Burgoo situation had been nice. He finds himself slightly pleased to know that Jace does have a soft side, even if he doesn't acknowledge it. And the arcade had been a lot more fun that Simon had been expecting. For a Shadowhunter with no interest in most things mundane, Jace had taken to the games rather quickly.

Simon wonders whether Jace threw Dave Buster away as soon as he got back to Magnus' apartment. 

His musings are interrupted by a banging on his door, the knock more of a slam--like police. Simon knows who it is immediately and rolls his eyes to open the door, peering out at Jace curiously. 

His curiosity is put on pause for just a moment. Jace is wearing a suit. Simon's only seen that one other time, at Alec's sham wedding. He remembers thinking that everyone had looked so beautiful in their nice clothes, all of them--Alec, Clary, Jace, Izzy,  _ everyone.  _ He'd also been on his  _ best  _ behavior, knowing that a vampire at a Shadowhunter wedding wasn't exactly the norm, so his wandering eyes had been kept in check. 

In short, Simon hadn't appreciated Jace in a suit. Meaning, he very much is  _ now.  _

The thing is, Simon  _ wishes  _ Jace was just some blond guy with pretty eyes, like Liam, but he's not. He'd only been half-joking when he'd told Clary that Jace has raw, sexual magnetism. There  _ is  _ something inherently sexy about him, but in an 'I-don't-look-it-but-I'd-treat-you-so-sweet' kind of way. Yes, he's gorgeous and mysterious and a natural asshole, but there's a lightness to his beauty that suggests he should be cherished. 

It's all very annoying, really, and the suit only enhances it, frustratingly enough. 

"Good, Raphael gave you a  _ nice  _ suit," Jace says, flicking his gaze over Simon quickly. "Let's go." 

Simon blinks. "Wait, what?" 

"Party, go, now." Jace makes a face and rolls his eyes, flinging an arm out. "Come on, I can't be late. I  _ live  _ there. Alec will kill me." 

"Okay, jeez," Simon mutters, letting Jace usher him out the door. He waves towards his van. "Come on, it'll be faster if I drive us." 

Jace nods and, without a word, follows him to the van. They slide into the van in silence, not saying anything as Simon points them in the direction of Magnus' loft. It feels like there are words missing, but Simon has absolutely no idea where to start. 

Jace must, because he says, "It's a party for Max. He's going to get his first rune soon, so Magnus is throwing him a celebration at Alec's insistence." 

"Oh…" Simon grimaces before he can stop himself, throwing Jace a cautious look. "I'm sure it will be…" 

"A disaster," Jace mutters flatly. 

Simon nods. "Yup, that's what I was thinking, but I was too polite to say it. So, uh, who's all going to be there?" 

"Clary will be there, Simon." 

"No, I was serious. Who else?" 

Jace rolls his head to look over at him, a pinched look around his eyes. "Maryse is coming, and Max. Magnus hired Maia to bartend. Izzy will be late for some reason, I don't know. Other people--Shadowhunters, mostly, a couple of downworlders." 

"Only a couple?" Simon asks. 

"Why do you think I invited you?" Jace mumbles, turning his head, gazing out the window again. 

Despite himself, Simon softens. "You don't want Magnus to feel outnumbered." 

Jace is silent for a long moment, so long that Simon thinks he isn't going to reply, but then he whispers, "He's been really good to Alec. To me." 

Out of nowhere, Simon feels a pang of something like pity in his chest. He knows about Jace's situation right now, mostly from Clary, and until now, he hasn't really cared that much. He doesn't often think about Jace, or what he's going through, or how hard his life is. 

But...Simon gets it. He knows what it's like not to be able to go home, and it's not a good feeling. On top of that, he's basically lost his job--sort of. For Jace, the hits have been coming and don't seem to be stopping. Simon relates to that, sympathizes more that he cares to admit. 

"So," Simon murmurs, casting around in his thoughts for something to say, not willing to linger on Jace's strange show of softness, "I was going to confess to Clary that I was in love with her last night." 

Jace hums, slowly looking over at him. "There's that  _ "was"  _ again. Did you do it?" 

"No. Instead, I somehow talked her into dating girls," Simon admits, his lips twitching at the corners. 

"Not only did you  _ not  _ get the girl, you managed to convince her not to like guys at all." Jace snorts, shaking his head. "Nice one, Simon." 

"I don't want to be in love with her," Simon murmurs, his throat suddenly dry as he swallows. Emotion hits him as he hears those words escape him, ringing with truth and pain. "I'm tired."

Jace sighs quietly. "Yeah," he breathes out, "me too." 

Simon has nothing to say to that, so the moment drops into contemplative silence. He glances over at Jace a couple of times, but he's just got his head leaned back against the seat, his eyes closed. 

He does look tired. Whether from the stress he's under right now, or losing his option to love Clary like  _ that,  _ or just because he isn't getting enough sleep, Simon doesn't know. The skin under his eyes are a faint grey--nearly purple--and almost invisible when his eyes are open. But, when his eyes are closed, when he's not focused on the world around him, when he's not acting like nothing gets to him...he looks as exhausted as Simon feels. 

It's a weird thing, Simon thinks. The strange little connection between them they share from loving the same girl, only for neither of them to get her in the end. It's not a bad reflection on Clary that they don't want it anymore, the push and pull, the pain and fighting--it's just that loving her is no easy task. Not for them. 

Simon feels almost...sad by the time they make it to Magnus' loft. He puts the van in park with a frown, taking a deep breath. Now that he knows why Jace invited him, he's not exactly looking forward to the definite shitshow that's undoubtedly about to happen. Still, Magnus has been good to him, too--that just seems to be Magnus to his core, being good to people while pretending that he doesn't--and Simon will try to help in any way he can, even with something as simple as this. 

"I'm late," Jace murmurs, looking up at the building without making any move to get out of the van. 

Simon chews the inside of his lip for a moment, looking at Jace with his eyebrows drawn together. "Maybe we can sneak you in." 

"Yeah, sure," Jace says, his voice hollow. "We'll just tiptoe our way into the High Warlock's home without notifying said Warlock. Sure thing, great plan, Simon." 

"Yeah, I'm just overflowing with them. How is Dave Buster, by the way?" 

"Living his best life on my dresser." 

Simon blinks. "You didn't throw him away?" 

"No." Jace looks over at him with a small frown. "Magnus might have seen him in the trash." 

"You're horrible," Simon decides. 

At this, Jace smiles, just a little. It's enough to brighten his eyes and push him to sit his hand on the door handle as he chuckles softly. "Good to know. Come on." 

* * *

Jace is right, they are late. 

The party is in full swing by the time they slip in the door. Simon peers around warily, automatically clocking Clary in the corner of the room, talking to Max and Maryse with a tight smile on her face. Alec and Magnus are at the bar, laughing at something Maia is saying as she makes a show of putting drinks together. From an estimate, there's about forty people here, ten of which who look to be downworlders--that's including Maia, Magnus, and now Simon. All of the Shadowhunters have their weapons in them, a visible but silent threat. 

Well, Jace and Clary and Alec don't, but they're the only ones. Coincidentally enough, they're about the only Shadowhunters that Simon feels safe around. 

"Oh, here we go," Jace mutters. 

Simon follows his gaze back towards the bar where he catches sight of Alec and Magnus making their way towards them. Jace visibly tenses as they draw closer, and Simon's heart reluctantly goes out to him. 

"Jace," Alec says sharply, "where did--" 

"It's my fault," Simon blurts out, making all of them turn to stare at him with various looks of incredulity. "I, uh, called him. There was an...emergency." 

"An emergency," Alec repeats flatly. 

Magnus smirks behind his glass and says, "Oh? Do tell, Simon," before sipping his drink. 

"I thought one of the werewolves at the Jade Wolf was going to attack me," Simon lies, only feeling slightly guilty. Chances are, one of them  _ would  _ if they could get away with it. "I tried to call Clary, but she must have had her phone off. I figured, you know, Shadowhunters kind of uphold the law, so I panicked and called Jace. I made it seem worse than it was, really. He was annoyed because I was going to make him late, so I offered to drive if I could come, and...here we are." 

Alec raises his eyebrows at Jace. "You ran off to Simon's aid, without saying anything?" 

"He was crying," Jace says, a thinly veiled look of amusement on his face. "I haven't gotten to do a lot of work recently, so yes, I went to handle it." 

Jace lies so smoothly that Simon almost finds himself believing it, even though he knows the truth. He weaves in some truth that makes it seem believable--that he'd run off to help because he misses Shadowhunting--and it's hard to pin down if it's true or not. Simon doesn't appreciate Jace saying he was crying, though. 

"Well, you're here now," Magnus says easily. His eyes widen a little, head tipping to the side. "You missed Maryse and Max's entrance, however. She brought me alcohol because she hears that I like to drink." 

Simon winces in sympathy. "Ouch."

"She's trying," Alec murmurs, lips tipping down. 

Jace huffs a bitter laugh. "Yeah, Magnus, you should consider yourself lucky. She doesn't try for everyone." 

There's a pause that bleeds awkward tension so thick that Simon can taste it. It leaves a rancid taste in his mouth, and he swallows as he looks away, desperately wishing for an escape. Clary is still talking to Maryse, and she looks like she wishes someone would come save her, but that's not a sword Simon is willing to fall on. His eyes find the bar, and yes, that...he can work with. 

"Hey, well, you like to drink, too," Simon says, turning to look at Jace. "Why don't we get you one?" 

All the tension seeps out of Jace's shoulders in one fell swoop. "Best idea you've ever had." 

Simon chuckles as Jace hooks a hand on his elbow and quickly tugs him away from Magnus and Alec, both of them watching them go in discomfort and concern. Simon thinks that's unfair. They can't be worried for Jace if they're going to put him in the situations that hurt him, even if they don't mean to. 

They come to a stop in front of Maia, who's tossing a mixer and eyeing them with a frown. Jace slaps on a bright, over-the-top grin and winks at her. This only succeeds in getting Maia to roll her eyes, looking genuinely annoyed by his presence. 

When she finishes the drink, passing it off to a Shadowhunter who doesn't even say thank you, Maia leans against the bar and peers at them. "You know, I was holding out hope that you wouldn't be here, Jace." 

"Ah, you know I couldn't stay away from you too long, Maia," Jace teases, slapping a hand down on the bar. "You are my favorite bartender, you know." 

"Wow, your sarcasm is so strong it deserves its own name," Maia mutters, pushing one of the glasses forward and shaking her head. "Let me guess, your pride is still wounded that you got your ass kicked by a werewolf?" 

"Ha!" Simon busts out, only to immediately clamp a hand over his mouth when Jace shoots him a sharp look. Maia winks at him, smirking. 

"That was  _ three  _ werewolves, no need to mention the part where I was outnumbered," Jace huffs. 

Maia's smile softens just a bit. "Yeah, well, I'm glad we didn't rip out your throat and whistle through your windpipe," she tells him, eyes dancing with laughter, only for them to soften, too. "I know you didn't kill Gretel." 

They share a brief nod, and Simon can't stop the smile spreading over his face. "Aw, look at us. Werewolf, Shadowhunter, and Vampire all getting along." 

"Just Werewolf and Shadowhunter at the moment," Jace says dryly. He picks up the glass that Maia pushes at him with a frown. "I wanted a beer." 

"Well, you got sangria. Magnus has a thing for Spain." 

"Any blood on tap?" Simon asks hopefully. 

Maia grimaces. "Sorry, no. I don't think Magnus invited any Vampires tonight." 

"No, he didn't," Simon mutters, shrugging. "It's fine. I'm not that hungry anyway." 

"That's comforting." Jace arches an eyebrow. "You haven't had any blood?" 

"I was busy getting dressed for an event that I was rudely dragged along to," Simon retorts with a pointed look. 

"Oh, thank god. Finally, someone to distract you away from me." Maia jerks her chin between them. "Here comes the girl everyone falls all over themselves for." 

Simon and Jace turn in unison to see Clary shuffling quickly through the mass of people, making a beeline straight for them with wide eyes. 

"She looks pretty," Simon comments, turning to look at Maia. "Doesn't she?" 

Jace snorts into his drink. 

"I guess," Maia allows, shrugging carelessly and replacing some of the drinks that people have grabbed. 

"Finally," Clary breathes out in relief as she shoves her way between Jace and Simon, snatching up a glass and gulping it with a grimace. She sags against the bar and presses a hand to her temple. "I never thought I was going to get away from Mother Gothel." 

Simon bites his lip to stop from laughing outright. Maia doesn't, however, and she laughs freely. 

"Who?" Jace mutters, looking at Simon. 

"It's from a movie. Tangled. Kind of an evil mom who thinks she knows best," Simon explains quickly. 

Jace grunts. "Fitting." 

"Simon, what are you doing here?" Clary asks, finally draining her glass and stepping back to peer at them. 

Simon opens his mouth to stick with the same story that he'd fed Magnus and Alec, but Jace cuts him off. 

"I invited him," he says calmly. 

Clary's eyebrows hike up her forehead. "You invited Simon? Like, as your…" 

Jace downs his drink with a grimace not unlike Clary's, his gaze fixed over her shoulder. "Excuse me, I have to go talk to Mother Gothel." 

As Jace walks away, Simon weakly calls out after him, "Good luck!" 

"What is going on?" Clary asks. 

Simon shrugs. "I have no idea. But hey, Maia said you look pretty in your dress. Excuse me." 

With that, albeit reluctantly, he slips away from the bar, leaving a flushing Clary behind with a visibly confused Maia. He is obviously the  _ best  _ wingman, and Clary will definitely owe him later. 

He moves through the room cautiously, unwilling to linger too long around Shadowhunters lest they notice him. He catches sight of Jace talking to Max while Maryse stands beside him, her entire body tense and her smile fixed. Max seems to say something that has Jace standing up straight, a brief flash of hurt crossing his face before he can shutter it away. A moment later, he's stalking off to disappear around a corner. 

Simon stands still for a moment, unsure whether he should follow Jace or not. He eventually decides not to, figuring he'll need a few moments. Scanning the room again, he sees Izzy walking in with a furrow in her brow, only to come to a halt as Clary suddenly appears at her side. Simon watches them talk for a moment, then winces when he sees Clary stalk off, looking upset. He's assuming that Izzy didn't take too kindly to whatever pass Clary just made for her. He doesn't want to be involved in that, so he looks away. 

Simon glances around warily, unsure what he's supposed to be doing. It makes him nervous, makes him feel like everyone is looking at him, and his throat is incredibly dry. Finally, his gaze lands on Magnus, who seems to be alone at the moment, though he looks confused about it. Clary is walking away from him now, too. Well, Simon is here for him, after all, so that's where he heads, keeping his head ducked as he goes. 

"Hey, Magnus," Simon greets. 

Magnus glances at him. "Simon. Are you enjoying the party?" he asks. 

Simon is  _ not,  _ but he's not willing to tell Magnus that. "It's perfect, man, really. You did great." 

"Thank you," Magnus murmurs. "You know, I could tell that you and Jace were lying earlier. What really happened that caused him to be late?" 

"He'll kill me if I tell you." Simon chews on the inside of his lip, grimacing at the prick of his fang. Those usually don't come out like that. 

Magnus looks amused. "Don't tell me you're afraid of  _ Jace,  _ of all people? He's harmless." 

Simon thinks over the idea of telling Magnus. In a way, it would make Jace look a lot nicer than he presents himself. Strangely, he thinks that Jace could do with people knowing he's kinder than he lets on. 

"He invited me," Simon admits, chuckling when Magnus' eyebrows raise. "The  _ reason _ he invited me was for you. There aren't a lot of downworlders here, and I guess he didn't want you to feel outnumbered." 

As expected, Magnus' face softens. It's almost imperceptible, but it does. "I see," he murmurs, a strange gratefulness to his tone. He smiles then, wide and bright, a show more than something real. "Well, if he thinks you'll provide comfort, he's mistaken. We all know where your loyalties truly lie." 

"With my friends," Simon tells him seriously. He allows himself to grin goofily. "That includes you too, Magnus."

"And that, my dear, is  _ your  _ mistake," Magnus tells him with a wink. "Now, I must be off. I have a boyfriend to complain to. Enjoy your night, and do stop by and congratulate Max if you get the chance." 

"You got it, chief," Simon says cheerfully, giving him a two-fingered salute. 

Magnus rolls his eyes and saunters off with his usual liquid movements, like a coursing river. Internally, Simon starts singing  _ I'll Make A Man Out Of You  _ from Mulan, in higher spirits as he starts picking his way across the room. He figures he should at least find Jace and make sure he's not  _ too  _ upset. If, on the way, he crosses paths with Maryse and Max, he'll keep his promise, but get through it very quickly. 

He's almost to the hall that Jace disappeared down when the dry quality to his throat starts to thicken and burn. He coughs in surprise, blinking rapidly as his fangs force themselves out. Banging on his chest, he braces himself against the wall and...everything goes dark. 

What feels only like a second later, Simon blinks and finds himself standing in the hall he was heading towards. He's not entirely sure how he got here, and he glances around warily. His throat feels better, at least, and his fangs are back where they're supposed to be. 

Shrugging it off, Simon takes a step forward and nearly trips over something. He glances down as he regains his balance, then freezes in place. 

Icy fear clamps around his throat, a horrified sound escaping his lips as he stares down at the body. Jace's pale body, immobile and gray. Dead. Simon suddenly knows why his throat is fine, can see the solution had been Jace's neck, which has two puncture wounds in place--a vampire bite that's left him drained. 

Stunned and terrified, Simon stumbles backwards with a weak gasp. He doesn't--that's not right. He wouldn't just--unless he did? Has he been that hungry, really? He remembers the dry throat, the random appearance of fangs, but...he wouldn't just-- 

_ But you're a monster,  _ his mind whispers. 

"Oh g--" he chokes out, the unfinished plea more evidence to the fact that, yes, he  _ is  _ a monster. 

Jace lays there, prone and still, very obviously dead. Tears well up in Simon's eyes until the image is just a blur, and he whimpers when his back hits the wall. Then he's stumbling away, falling over himself to get as far from his mistake as possible, to find someone and--and  _ do something.  _ He has to--

Entering the party again is like stepping into another world. People around him are smiling and laughing, dancing and enjoying drinks. Simon can't breathe, his hands shaking at his sides as he stares around. He glances around and sees a flash of Maryse as she goes running towards the balcony. Before he knows what he's doing, Simon is following after her with tears streaming down his face, his chest tight with pain. 

She'll kill him, he knows she will. She'll handle the monster, handle  _ him.  _

"Alec!" 

Simon chokes around a sob as he pushes himself forward, hearing Maryse cry out for the wrong son. Or so he thinks. When he pushes his way outside, he sees everyone gathered around a passed-out Alec, snapping at each other as Magnus paces. Simon's about to ask what's going on when he sees the other body beside them. 

Jace, dead on the ground beside them all, and no one is even worried about it. 

"Oh my--he's dead!" Simon shouts, pushing himself forward with a gutted sound. "I killed him. I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I--I--" 

"Simon?" Magnus reaches out and slows him as everyone's voices start raising, Clary arguing with Maryse and Izzy over Alec's body. 

Jace remains dead, unnoticed. 

"He's--he's  _ dead,"  _ Simon rasps, slumping into Magnus' arms, gasping. "I--I killed him!" 

"No, Simon, Alec is fine," Magnus murmurs. "He's not dead, and you didn't kill him." 

"Not  _ Alec!"  _ Simon shouts, shoving Magnus back with enough force to make him stumble. "Jace! Magnus, I killed  _ Jace!"  _

Magnus stares at him, his lips parted. Voices are getting louder, harsher, indistinguishable. He shakes his head and opens a book. "This isn't real, this is--just calm down. Don't move, Simon." 

Simon blinks through his tears, forcing himself to stare at Jace's dead body. "I'm a monster," he whispers, the words wrenching out of him. 

It repeats in his head like a mantra,  _ I'm a monster I'm a monster I'm a monster,  _ until it suddenly stops. 

Everything stops. 

Jace's dead body is gone, replaced with him as a walking, talking  _ alive  _ version who is staring at Maryse in horror. Simon nearly sinks to the ground in relief, releasing a shaky breath as it hits him that he was  _ hallucinating.  _

"Oh g--" he chokes out again, this time in relief. 

"Mom?" Jace whispers. 

Clary makes a small sound of horror. "Izzy, I'm so sorry. I--I thought you were telling me that you could never forgive me. I didn't--" 

"It's okay, Clary," Izzy murmurs, reaching out to squeeze her arm. "I forgive you. I always will." 

Maryse opens her mouth like she's trying to find words, but Simon's physically incapable of stopping himself from interrupting. He blurs across the space between him and Jace, slamming into him without any warning. Jace lets out an  _ oomph  _ and curses under his breath, but his reflexes are quick enough for him to plant his feet and catch Simon at the sides to stop them from tipping over. 

"I thought I  _ killed  _ you," Simon blurts out, wrenching out of the hug as fast as he entered it, staring at Jace with wide eyes. "I--I thought I lost control and--and--" 

Jace just gapes at him. 

"Someone was playing with your minds," Magnus declares, drawing everyone's attention. He still holds his book open in his hands, looking at Alec sadly. "They were feeding off your insecurities." 

"What?" Clary breathes out. 

Magnus snaps his book closed, only for it to disappear from his hands. His entire expression changes, hands sparking. "My book. Someone took my spellbook." 

Then, without hesitation, he waves his arms and raises them. Simon watches in shock as shimmering wards spring up around the entire building, a wall that he doesn't doubt will keep everyone locked in. 

"You put up your wards?" Izzy asks cautiously. 

Deadly serious, Magnus stares at them with his jaw clenched. "Someone has my spellbook. No one leaves."

Simon swallows. 

* * *

Things go from bad to worse, then thanks to Magnus, everything calms down. The party is brought to an end, Iris--the Warlock behind everything, sent by Valentine, posing as a cat--is handled, and Simon just wants a nap. 

His exhaustion settles on him after most of everyone has gone. He finds a couch and sinks down on it, rubbing his hands over his face as he breathes slowly. In the end, he thinks, at least everything worked out. He can still remember the horrible feeling of thinking he lost control and killed Jace, and it feels like a weight on his shoulders that won't ever go away. 

Things are winding down, even the stragglers leaving. He can hear Maryse leaving with Max, can hear Maia packing up her things to go, can hear Magnus speaking with the others. Simon stays right here on this couch, not moving, not joining in. For a long time, he doesn't move and simply tries to settle a bit. 

Time passes. Thirty minutes. An hour. A little more. 

Then...

"Simon."

That's Jace's voice coming from right in front of him. Sure enough, when he opens his eyes, he sees Jace standing in front of him, holding a blood-bag. 

Simon feels a pang at the sight of it. "Don't worry, Jace, I don't think I'm  _ actually  _ going to lose control and drink your blood anytime soon." 

Jace rolls his eyes. "Yeah, like I'm really worried about that. Here, take it. I asked Magnus if he had any, and I guess he had some to spare. You haven't had any today, remember? You said that." 

"Great, you have ears," Simon snaps, glaring up at him. 

"I opened it already, so now you have to," Jace says simply, like that's a trump-card or something. When Simon doesn't react, he sighs. "I'll tell everyone you're not eating, then we'll have to throw an intervention, and trust me, you don't want that." 

Simon does not, in fact, want that. With a scowl, he reaches out to snatch the blood with a rolling stomach. He feels a little sick, so he isn't looking forward to the blood. And yet, when he tips the first gulp into his mouth, it makes him feel better, despite the taste. It's never  _ good,  _ not really, but the effect is. 

Silently, he slowly drains the blood. Silently, Jace watches him with his arms crossed. Then, silently, they stare at each other. It's...silent.

Simon clears his throat because he can't take it anymore. He waves a hand. "So, uh, you knocked your mom out." 

"Yeah," Jace says breezily, like that's an act he does every day, no big deal. "You cried because you thought you killed me, then hugged me when you found out you didn't actually do that." 

"Great party," Simon murmurs weakly. "Thanks so much for inviting me." 

Jace snorts. "It's not like I knew it would traumatize you. Though, I guess I shouldn't be surprised." 

"In this life?" Simon huffs a bitter laugh. "No, you definitely should not." 

"You, uh…" Jace abruptly looks vaguely pained, his gaze slipping to the side as he clears his throat. "You're going to be okay, right? Like this isn't… It won't make you think of yourself as a monster, will it?" 

"It was a spell, a hallucination," Simon says firmly, saying the same thing he's been repeating to himself for the last hour. "Even if I was starving, I--I wouldn't kill you." 

"I wouldn't let you," Jace tells him, suddenly serious as he snaps his gaze over to Simon. 

Simon doesn't need details to know what Jace means. There isn't a scenario in which Jace would ever let Simon bite him, let alone kill him. He'd kill Simon before that would happen. In a way, it's an odd comfort to know that Jace cares more about his own survival than his. 

"Right." Simon clears his throat and tries for a weak smile, unsure if he manages. "Sorry for, uh, hugging you, I guess. I get emotional." 

Jace chuckles and moves over to the spot beside Simon, flopping down next to him. "Honestly, I didn't know you cared that much," he mocks. 

"I  _ don't,"  _ Simon grits out, rolling his eyes when Jace smirks at him in self-satisfaction. He looks lighter, happier, probably because of his talk with Maryse before she left. It makes him look even better than he usually does. "My insecurities have absolutely nothing to do with you, Lightwood, so don't start thinking they do."

Jace's eyes light up a little like they always do when Simon calls him  _ Lightwood  _ instead of  _ Morgenstern.  _ It's part of the reason Simon does it. Everyone is always calling him that now, like he isn't ashamed of it, like it doesn't obviously tear him up inside. Simon may enjoy annoying Jace, but he's not  _ cruel.  _ So, while Maryse had been attempting to remove Jace from the Lightwood family and everyone else has been labeling him as Valentine's son with scorn, Simon has made it his mission to go against the grain on that subject. 

"Sure, Lewis, sure," Jace says easily, lips curling up.

"Simon."

Jolting, Simon glances away from Jace to see Clary coming to a stop in front of him. "Oh. Hey, Fray. How are you feeling?" he asks. 

He knows that this night hasn't been easy for her either. Apparently her and Izzy had gotten into an argument pre-party, and when Clary apologized  _ at _ the party, the hallucinations had convinced her that Izzy hated her and could never forgive her. Then, on top of that, Alec had nearly leapt to his death right in front of her. So, all-in-all, Simon's not surprised to see exhaustion surrounding her, too. 

"I'm fine," she lies. 

Anyone who says that these days are liars, but they all say it, so they're all polite enough to not mention it. 

"Did you talk to Alec?" Simon murmurs. 

Clary nods, swallowing thickly. "Yeah, I--we talked. He's… We're okay." 

"That's good, I'm glad," Simon tells her seriously. 

"Thanks." She smiles at him, though it's a little weak and tinged with sadness. "Anyway, me and Izzy are about to head home. It'll be sunrise before you know it. We can walk you home, if you want." 

"I've got it," Jace pipes up before Simon can even answer. He sighs. "I'm ninety-nine percent sure that I should give Alec and Magnus some time alone, and I don't really have anything else better to do." 

"Shouldn't you talk to Alec, too?" Simon asks, turning to look at him with a frown. 

Jace nods. "Yeah, and I will when I get back, but Magnus is the love of his life. They need time."

"That's sweet," Clary says softly, looking over at Jace with something like pride in her smile. "And thank you, Jace, for walking Simon home." 

"Trust me, it's a last option kind of deal." Jace claps his hands on his knees, then pushes to his feet, smiling warmly at Clary. "Just hope I don't kill your best friend when he inevitably won't shut up." 

"Hey!" Simon busts out, affronted. 

Clary laughs, then reaches out and punches Jace in the shoulder. It's a surprisingly casual gesture that seems natural and not forced. "He better be alive when I call him tomorrow. And you," she says, pointing to Simon with her eyebrows raised. "You better be prepared to answer your phone the  _ moment  _ the sun goes down. I have hot gossip, Lewis." 

"You got it, Fray," Simon says easily, sharing a grin with her as he forces himself to unfold from the couch and give her a quick, tight hug. She pulls away first, heading towards where Izzy waits by the door. 

From across the room, Magnus guides Alec into a tight and seemingly emotional embrace. 

"And that's our cue," Jace murmurs quietly. He jerks his chin towards the door. "Come on." 

* * *

It's strangely quiet outside. Simon doesn't really like it. He finds peace in motion, in background noise, in the possible distractions that surround him should he need them to save him from an uncomfortable moment. 

Sometimes, he thinks that his mind can't focus if the world isn't working like well-oiled cogs around him. The stillness and quiet gets to him, forcing his mind to overcompensate for the lack of hustle and bustle. His thoughts pick up in speed and grow in urgency until he's rattling in his own skin, the action the world should have seemingly trapped within him. 

After a night like tonight, the silence is the worst thing that can happen to him. He hums a song he's been working on, trying to focus all his energy into thinking up lyrics, fidgeting restlessly. He's uneasy. It doesn't take much for him to work out that he won't be sleeping when he gets home, no matter how exhausted he is. 

Soon enough, Simon can't stand the silence anymore, feeling like he'll burst out of his own skin if it's not broken. He says, "Jace." 

Jace hums and looks towards him. "What?" 

"Why did you really keep Dave Buster?" Simon asks softly, his voice pitched low with sincerity. 

Jace seems to sense the seriousness in his question and, for once, forgoes sarcasm. "It seemed rude to throw him away. Plus, I don't really have anything else in my room." 

"Do you like living with Magnus?" 

"It was weird at first. He's with Alec, so I was obviously intruding, but I didn't care. Alec is my parabatai, so if Magnus is going to be with him, then he's going to have to get used to me." 

Simon hums. "If I was a Shadowhunter, Clary would be my parabatai, I think."

"Parabatai can't be in love, Simon." 

"But Alec was--" 

"No," Jace cuts him off sharply, "he wasn't. It's confusing sometimes. The parabatai bond is...intense. Alec is gay, and he felt things for me that confused him, that made him  _ think  _ it was love. It wasn't. He knows that now because of what he has with Magnus.  _ That's  _ love." 

"Are you jealous?" Simon asks curiously. 

Jace snorts derisively. "Of course not."

For some reason, it's getting a lot easier to read Jace and parse out what he means. His  _ of course not  _ is basically  _ I really am.  _

"You are," Simon notes, ignoring the way Jace tenses up and glares at him. "Are  _ you  _ gay?" 

"It's not about sexuality." Jace grimaces and reaches up to push his hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. "Like I said, the parabatai bond is intense. Alec means the world to me, and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him. I'm not jealous of Magnus, I'm  _ happy  _ for them." 

He really is, Simon realizes. "Then what is it?" he murmurs, frowning. "I mean, what is it that--" 

"I thought I had that," Jace snaps. "With Clary. I thought I had what they had, okay?" 

"Oh." Simon's immobile heart gives a small pang. "Jace, I don't think anyone can have what they have. To start with, they have more problems to face than you and Clary would have. Uh, ignoring the sibling thing. Alec is a Shadowhunter, Magnus is a downworlder. You and Clary would have never had anything close to that." 

"Love in the face of adversity," Jace muses. 

Simon snaps his fingers, nodding. "Yes, that! Their love  _ has  _ to be solid and unwavering, or else they'll never make it. And, well, does it look like they won't make it?" 

"No, it looks like forever to me," Jace admits, his eyes softening as he glances around the street. "I guess there is something about it. The love that would be easier to walk away from, but staying anyway because it means too much. Even before things got hard with Clary--the sibling stuff, I mean--it was just easier not to deal with it, sometimes. It didn't--" He takes a deep breath, lips tipping down at the corners. "It didn't mean enough, even before we had to walk away." 

"I talked to Clary about this, you know. It's like I told her, you two were still  _ new.  _ You didn't really know each other. Hell, you don't really know each other  _ now.  _ You were both running around, hyped up on adrenaline, attracted to each other--that's it. Seriously, how many talks did you  _ actually  _ have?" 

"A few." 

"Do you know who her favorite artist is?" Simon asks, raising his eyebrows. When Jace presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head, Simon continues. "Do you even know her middle name?" 

Jace's jaw clenches and jumps. "No, I don't." 

"It's Adele, by the way." Simon sighs when Jace's hands turn to fists at his side. "It's not just you. I bet you never told her your favorite color, have you?" 

"Don't have one." 

"Okay, does she know  _ your  _ middle name?" 

"I don't know," Jace admits, heaving a sigh as he tips his head to look up at the sky. "It's Christopher." 

"I don't have one," Simon tells him with a small quirk of his lips. 

Jace glances at him in surprise. "Really?" 

"Sure don't," Simon admits with a grin. "Neither does Becky. When she was born, mom was kind of drugged up from, you know, giving birth and my dad had to fill out the birth certificate. He panicked and forgot to give her a middle name. My mom was  _ furious.  _ But, when I was born, they stuck with the theme--on purpose." 

"Mundanes," Jace says, the same way someone would say  _ aliens.  _

"My point is, you now know more about  _ me  _ than you knew about the girl you were convinced you were in love with. This isn't a TV show or a movie, Jace. People don't just fall in love based on attraction." Simon shrugs unsympathetically. "You  _ liked  _ her, and maybe there was potential, but you weren't in love." 

"Maybe," Jace allows, frowning, "but you were." 

"Well, I had years to get there. It only took about a month for me to fall for her, though," Simon says, snorting when Jace rolls his eyes. "It's easy to fall in love with Clary Fray, I'll give you that, but it's hard as hell to  _ be  _ in love with her. And, if you must know, it's the quiet moments that make you fall in love with someone, not the tense high-stakes moments where you want to rip each other's clothes off after a fight." 

"I wouldn't know. I don't have quiet moments very often," Jace murmurs, stuffing his hands in his leather jacket and drawing it closed as if it's a shield. "You said it's not easy to be in love with her. Why not?" 

"I mean it's not  _ for us,"  _ Simon clarifies. "Especially not you, not after--well." 

"I let it go," Jace says softly, his words ringing with truth. "I made the choice, and I moved on. I had to. The idea of clinging to--to  _ that,  _ with her, with my  _ sister  _ was just too much. It was easier to just...not deal with it anymore, so I guess you're right. But for you, why?" 

Simon blows out a deep breath. "Dude, talk about a loaded question." 

"Well, you're the one who started it with the deep, invasive questions and puppy eyes like the answers were the only thing in the world that you wanted." 

"Oh, shut up. I didn't--there weren't  _ puppy  _ eyes." 

"Uh huh." Jace snorts, glancing over at Simon in blatant amusement. "Sure, whatever you say. Now, cough it up, Simon. Why isn't it easy for you?" 

"I told you I was tired." Simon smiles weakly, then looks down at his shoes as he takes slow steps along the sidewalk. "For me, it was exhausting. Always wondering what she'd do if she found out, worrying that we wouldn't be best friends if she did. I would spend  _ hours  _ on the speech I was going to give her, but every time I tried to say it, I just...couldn't. The risk was too great. So, I had to deal with it, swallow everything down. It's stupid and cliche, but I couldn't breathe around it sometimes. Obsessing over every touch, dreading the day when she'd find someone worth her time, tying myself into knots about missed chances and possible regrets. Then all this with the Shadow World happened, and I--it was so...draining. So, like you said, it's easier to let it go and not deal with that part anymore." 

"You don't think you'll regret not taking the chance while you could have?" Jace asks him, seemingly genuinely curious. 

Simon looks up and stares at him. "I spent a good portion of my life doing that. At least I can breathe now." 

"What if she's in love with you?"

"She's not." 

Jace's eyebrows jump. "And how do you know?" 

"The  _ moment  _ I decided that I wasn't going to do it anymore, and  _ seriously  _ meant it, had my doubts and stuff...I could see it." Simon ignores the muted pain in his chest as he shrugs. "It was like I could see her side of things all of a sudden. My feelings weren't clouding hers anymore. I'm her best friend, and she loves me to death--literally, in my case--but if she  _ ever  _ wanted me like that...I wouldn't have ever worried. Maybe she would have gone along with it, maybe she would have even enjoyed it and felt for me romantically, but it never would have matched what I felt for her. I'm just not the one for her, not like that, and I can see that now." 

"I tried to tell you that," Jace murmurs. 

"Yes," Simon says, "you did." 

Jace hums. "Shame. You two would have been cute together. You and Maia, too, but you gave up on that pretty fast." His lips twitch. "Can't imagine why." 

"Wait, you  _ knew  _ Maia was the girl I was trying to ask out?" Simon blurts out. 

"Contrary to popular belief, I  _ do  _ notice the things that happen around me," Jace says dryly. "You  _ literally  _ asked me for advice on how to talk to girls right after I mocked you for how you made a fool of yourself in front of Maia. It would take an idiot to miss that." 

Simon huffs and reaches out to shove Jace's arm. With a low chuckle, Jace sways to the side, obviously amused at his expense. His eyes are bright against the drape of night surrounding them. He looks, annoyingly enough,  _ very  _ beautiful. 

"It could have been anyone!" 

"You asked for advice on girls, so that narrowed it down." 

"Well, that's only because you can't give advice on how to talk to guys," Simon says with a huff. After a pause, he rolls his eyes. "Actually, knowing you, you probably  _ could.  _ You already know how to do everything anyway." 

Jace snorts. "There's not much of a difference between the way to hook up with a girl and the way to hook up with a guy, Simon. You just  _ ask.  _ But, you know, smoothly. So, again, you're shit out of luck." 

"You  _ clearly  _ haven't hooked up with many guys, then," Simon declares, shaking his head. 

"Not many, no," Jace says plainly. "More than you, though. I'd bet my life on it." 

Simon's mouth drops open and his head whips around to allow him to stare at Jace in shock. After a long beat where Jace arches an eyebrow at him, he manages to choke out, "Wait, you've been with guys?" 

"Sure," Jace answers easily. "It would kind of be a disservice to make certain people miss out on  _ me  _ just based on what's in their pants, wouldn't it?" 

Simon has to take a moment to adjust to living in a world where Jace is not one hundred percent straight. 

"Okay," Simon says finally, nodding. "I'll admit, I thought you were straight." 

"That's limiting," Jace tells him casually. "And I never said that, so you just  _ assumed.  _ Anyway, my point is, you're just at a loss with all genders." 

"How encouraging," Simon mutters. 

Jace chuckles again, a strangely light sound. It draws Simon's gaze, and he blinks rapidly to see the open expression on his face. He looks, for just a moment, like he believes that he's free. As if all the things in his life can't touch him here, laughing at Simon being a sarcastic dork, walking in the quiet world. 

Simon stares at him, then  _ keeps  _ staring at him. 

He doesn't mean to get so caught up in looking at Jace, and it's not really about how good he looks. It's just that this is the first time he's actually heard a soft, sweet laugh pass his lips--the wholesome kind that catches, that comes in moments you'll look back on fondly. From Jace, that kind of laugh has the power to fill a room and invade a heart. Simon can't help but feel a strange sense of sadness to think that this is the first time, in however long they've known each other, that Jace has  _ genuinely  _ laughed like this in his presence. Not even for anyone else, not Clary or Alec or Izzy. 

For a long time, Simon just assumed that Shadowhunters didn't know how to laugh like that, the way people laugh when they can feel love like a tangible touch. But then, he caught Alec laughing like that for Magnus, and Izzy doing it for him, for Clary, for her brothers. Jace, however, just  _ doesn't  _ laugh like that. 

Until now. 

It's a beautiful sound. A bit floaty, a little hearty, but oddly sweet all the same and very real. It makes his head tip back, makes his eyes flutter shut like he has to bask in the moment, makes his body relax and loosen like it never really does. Whatever the opposite of the impossibility of looking away from a trainwreck is, it's this. There's nothing horrible about this that draws his gaze, and yet, Simon cannot look away. 

Well, he can't until Jace catches him staring and frowns at him, the smile slipping away. "What?" he asks. 

Simon clears his throat. "Nothing." 

They keep walking in complete silence, and Jace looks away, a contemplative look on his face. It seems like he's thinking about something really hard. 

The pressing silence of the world suddenly seems like a gift rather than a curse. Just as easy as that, Simon doesn't really want to talk anymore. He doesn't want to think about how screwed up things are, not just for himself but for Jace, too. It's bad enough that he's got his own issues to consider, he doesn't really want to start thinking about Jace's in length. 

And yet, as Jace turns to look at him with a furrow in his brow, Simon finds his mind latching onto how hard things must be for him right now. Sure, Maryse had stepped up and apologized, but that doesn't excuse the fact that she ostracized him in the first place. And yeah, maybe he does like Magnus and care about him, but that doesn't mean the Institute isn't his home anymore, a home that he can't return to. There's also the fact that he's been demoted, shot down from doing the one thing in this world that he obviously feels proud of. 

That's not even including the fact that basically the entire Shadow World in New York--and probably beyond--knows he has demon blood in him. His own people cast him out for that, excluding his oldest siblings and Clary. And it's not like he can find a community with others who have demon blood because he's still a Shadowhunter to his core. It's literally a lose-lose situation, and Simon knows better than anyone what it's like to not feel at home in your own skin because everything you knew changed in a blink of an eye. 

He doesn't want to think about this anymore. 

Thankfully, he can see the Jade Wolf coming into sights, meaning he's nearly home. He lets out a shaky breath and looks over at Jace, who is still looking at him. Simon raises his eyebrows in question. 

"Why were you looking at me like that?" Jace asks softly, his eyebrows crumbling together. 

Simon smiles weakly. "You had something on your face." 

"I did?" Jace reaches up to swipe a hand over his face, trusting him without even thinking about it. He looks over at Simon. "Is it gone?" 

"Yeah," Simon says sadly, "it's gone." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun fact, I searched for so long looking to see if Simon Lewis has a middle name, and from what I found, he doesn't. Nor does Becky, his sister. So, I took that tidbit (and my frustration at lack of results) and ran with it. 
> 
> I will be back tomorrow with Chapter 3, but in the meantime, how are you liking it so far? Let me know if you're enjoying it, and if you are, don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave me a comment; I really adore every single one! 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, y'all remember me saying there's only a little angst? That's true. It just so happens to be shoved all into this chapter lmao 😂
> 
> Enjoy?

"It's like she has no sense of self-preservation." 

Alec snorts, looking up from his phone to arch a pointed eyebrow at Jace. "Huh, maybe it does run in the family. She sounds a lot like her brother." 

"Yes, well, it's a pain in my ass," Jace snaps, flinging out his arms. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" 

"Ah, the irony. Now you know how I feel." Alec grins when Jace scowls at him. "Alright, calm down. Just do what I do and go get her. Drag her back here kicking and screaming if you have to." 

Jace grimaces. "Clary doesn't listen to me." 

"Make her." 

"That isn't an easy task, you know that as good as I do." 

Alec shrugs, unsympathetic. "So take back-up." 

"You offering?" Jace lifts both eyebrows. 

"No, of course not," Alec replies with a snort. He waves a hand casually. "You can handle this." 

Jace blows out a deep breath, reaching up to scrub a hand through his hair. Clary is making his life  _ extra  _ difficult as of late. Strangely, he'd assumed that he'd stop worrying about her as much now that they're not together, but his concern has apparently skyrocketed in the role of Big Brother. It's  _ exhausting,  _ and he can't help but wonder how the fuck Alec manages it. 

However he does it, he does it well. His idea to take some back-up isn't actually a bad one. Alone, Jace definitely won't be able to convince Clary to go hide away in the Institute, but with someone's help… Simon's, specifically. It's no secret that they're sometimes each other's voice of reason, so it doesn't take a genius to realize that if he can get through to Simon, he stands a chance at getting through to Clary. It's a chance, at least. 

"Alright," Jace mutters, "but if I call--" 

"I'll come," Alec assures him. 

Jace nods. "Thanks. Where's Magnus?" 

"In his room, why?" 

"Need to ask a favor." 

"What favor?" Alec puts down his phone with a frown, following after him as he starts towards Magnus' room. "Hey, what do you want from him?" 

"Just a portal," Jace says simply, stopping in front of the bedroom door. He knocks before Alec can even get out the protest that's clearly on his lips. 

Alec glares at him. "Dammit, Jace, he isn't your personal chauffeur, and you can't just ask him for favors all the time. This is how he makes a living, and he's not your own personal downworlder at your disposal! It's bad enough that people act like he's--heeeeey, Magnus!" 

Magnus arches an eyebrow, his lips curling up as Alec's anger immediately filters out into an awkward smile. "As much as I enjoy you rightfully defending me, darling, I really don't mind helping Jace out." 

"You don't?" Jace asks in surprise. He fully expected more of a fight on this. But...okay?

"You  _ don't?"  _ Alec echoes, blinking rapidly. 

"I don't," Magnus confirms, amused. He flicks his gaze to Jace, a certain friendly quality to them that Jace hasn't ever seen before. "In his own way, Jace has helped me. So, it's a favor I owe. What do you need? And do keep in mind that it's a very  _ small  _ favor." 

Alec looks between them in confusion. 

Jace is just as confused as his parabatai, but he's not going to complain. He clears his throat. "I was just hoping you could open a portal to Simon's. I need him. His help, I mean. With Clary. To keep her safe." 

That's the most he's ever struggled through a sentence in  _ years,  _ and Jace really doesn't enjoy it. He coughs and turns his gaze to the ceiling as Alec and Magnus stare at him in blatant amusement. 

"Well," Magnus says cheerfully, sounding downright  _ delighted,  _ "if you need him, of course I'll help." 

"Magnus," Alec protests. 

Before he can even finish, Magnus winks and waves his hands. The portal he summons swirls in the hall, sending wind through their hair. Jace has no intention of sticking around and subjecting himself to more teasing, so he gives a very quick wave and steps through. 

The portal deposits him directly  _ in  _ Simon's shabby, little home for the time being, which is overkill in Jace's opinion, but it's too late to do anything about it. He glances around, fully expecting to find Simon looking at him in surprise. Instead, Simon is up in his canoe with headphones in his ears, a guitar in his lap, and pencil between his teeth that he hums around. 

Jace stares up at him for a moment, then rolls his eyes. 

"Simon." Jace gets no response. "Simon!" 

That gets a response. Simon spits out the pencil around a yelp as he jolts, causing the canoe to tip dangerously to the left, away from Jace. His guitar slips over the side and hits the floor, and in his panic, Simon stupidly tries to overcompensate for the precariously leaning canoe by tossing himself backwards too hard. This only succeeds in making him tumble over the side, towards Jace. 

It's just a reflex to dart forward and catch him, so without thinking, that's what Jace does. Because he's as good of a Shadowhunter as he is, Jace catches him properly without dropping him, hands around the back and under the knees. Simon looks at him in shock. 

"Jace?" he blurts out. 

"You're an idiot," Jace declares. 

Simon blinks at him. "You just saved my life." 

"No, I saved you from hitting the floor like you deserved for being up in a canoe in the first place," Jace retorts, rolling his eyes as he sits Simon on his feet and steps back. While Simon continues to stare at him, he crosses his arms and smirks. "That means you owe me, by the way."

"I don't have a bed," Simon tells him, craning his head up to look at the canoe with a small frown. "I mean, I do, but it's at my house." He swallows. "My mom's, I mean." 

"So you sleep in a canoe?" Jace asks. 

Simon just nods without saying a word. There's a pained look in his eyes, like sleeping in a canoe only serves as the reminder that he can't go home. Jace supposes it does. 

He doesn't want to think about this. It only reminds him of his own problems. Not being able to return to the place you feel you belong, the place you've  _ always  _ belonged, is a feeling Jace is intimately familiar with. It hurts in a way Jace had never prepared himself for, to be shoved out for something that's out of his control. That's undoubtedly how Simon must feel, and he doesn't want to know that, doesn't want to be able to  _ understand  _ him so easily. It just sours his mood even more to think that he's not the only undeserving person dealing with something like this, even if it's not the exact same. 

Jace doesn't have to sleep in a canoe, at least. No, he has a very nice guest bedroom that Magnus never invades or bugs him about. He doesn't hold it over his head, nor does he demand a damn thing in return. That's because Magnus is a good down to his core, no matter the blood coursing in his veins. It makes Jace look at the world a little differently, and the downworlders in it, just like Simon does. Unfortunately, it's starting to become apparent that the Shadowhunters are assholes. 

The silence must stretch on too long because Simon crosses his arms and mutters, "Why are you here? How did you get in here, anyway? I have the door locked." 

"Magnus portaled me in," Jace admits, refusing to elaborate past that. "I needed a favor, one that you now owe me. You busy?" 

Simon shrugs. "A little. I was working on a song." 

"Can it wait?" 

"Does it matter? You need something, so I'll be going along with it anyway. What is it?" 

Jace shifts uncomfortably, thinking about what Alec said about Magnus.  _ He's not your own personal downworlder at your disposal! _ Those words don't sit right with him. Out of all the emotions Jace has been forced to feel, guilt has always been his least favorite. It eats him up inside and lingers for too long, gnawing at him until he finds some way to make it right. 

_ Maybe, _ Jace thinks,  _ we Shadowhunters have been using downworlders for too long.  _

"I--no, you know what?" Jace grimaces and looks away, clearing his throat. "It's fine. You, uh, go back to your song. Don't worry about it." 

As Jace turns around to leave, Simon blurs around him, stopping in place in front of him. He crosses his arms, a curious glint in his eyes. "Okay,  _ now  _ I'm interested. Seriously, tell me what's going on." 

"You're busy," Jace says slowly. 

"Yeah, so? When has that ever mattered to you before?" Simon asks with a snort.

Jace clenches his jaw for a moment, that spark of guilt growing brighter. "It matters now," he says firmly, straightening his shoulders. "If you don't have time for someone, Simon, then you don't. End of story. Don't let  _ anyone  _ demand anything from you when they haven't earned that right, especially not--not a...Shadowhunter." 

That pains him to say, but it needs to be said. The slice of guilt within him eases just slightly. Simon, however, looks like he's concussed. 

"What?" he breathes out. 

"I'm not saying it again," Jace snaps. 

Simon huffs a slightly hysterical laugh. "No need, I heard it the first time. Jeez, that Aldertree guy really messed up by demoting you, huh? Now you're going around and telling people not to help Shadowhunters? Remind me not to get on your bad side." 

"Not people. You." Jace tips his head from side-to-side, biting back a laugh. "But, now that you mention it, I could broaden my reach." 

"Hey, fight the good fight, man," Simon chirps, looking utterly delighted. "In this, I will support you wholeheartedly. Excluding, you know, Clary and Alec and Izzy. And you, I guess." 

"You  _ guess?"  _ Jace huffs, rolling his eyes. "Tell me how you really feel, Lewis." 

Simon grins. "You asked for it, Lightwood." 

Jace hasn't quite figured out how to tamp down on the warmth that always swells in his chest when Simon calls him that. No one else does, just him. He's  _ Morgenstern  _ now, to most people. Everyone else just doesn't call him by his last name at all, and when they used to, he's always been Jace Wayland. Even to the Lightwoods. Before now, before finding out that he's a Morgenstern, that never used to bother him. Now? He wishes he could be a Lightwood and nothing else. 

"Before you get started, I'm going to go and--" Jace waves his hand towards the canoe. "--let you get back to your song. And Simon...get a bed." 

For the second time, Jace attempts to leave, only for Simon to nearly trip over himself as he backs up and catches him by the shoulder, stopping him yet again. "Hey, seriously, I'm not  _ that  _ busy. And you did say not to let anyone demand something from me if they haven't earned that right, but you have. You did just  _ literally _ catch me in the most cliche way possible, dude. I can't, in good conscience, let you leave now." 

"Cliche?" Jace arches an eyebrow. "That took skill." 

"Sure, sure. Tell that to someone who'll be impressed. Tell  _ me  _ what you came here for." 

So, reluctantly, Jace does. He explains most of the situation, making sure to slip in that Clary is in danger a couple of times. He's pretty sure he's getting his point across really well, but there's still an unnecessary amount of uncertainty on Simon's face. By the end, he still looks unsure, and Jace is getting frustrated. 

"What, Simon? How do you look confused,  _ still,  _ after I just told you all of that?" 

Simon's eyes widen. "No! No, I hear you loud and clear, trust me. It's just…" 

_ "What?"  _ Jace growls out. 

"Well, Clary's kind of on a date?" Simon winces like he expects Jace to explode or something. 

Jace raises his eyebrows. "Yes, and? 

"With Maia." 

"Good for her. She's still in danger and needs to go back to the Institute." 

Simon looks slightly surprised. "Wait, you're not going to ask about Clary going on a date with Maia? I mean, even  _ I  _ asked. I never thought Clary would ask her out, least of all that Maia would say yes, but--" 

"Simon," Jace interrupts, "I really don't  _ care."  _

There's a certain kind of comfort and relief in knowing that those words are true. He really doesn't care, doesn't give a fuck who Clary is or isn't dating. He just wants her to be safe, for their father to be handled before she goes out and gets distracted by love. 

He's said he let it go, and he has. 

"Well, still, I almost don't want to interrupt," Simon admits sheepishly. "Clary seemed really excited, you know? She's never been with a girl, and--and Maia is pretty awesome, so I don't want--" 

"Her  _ life,  _ Simon," Jace cuts in, flinging up his hands. "It's in danger. She can't do gay shit if she's dead." 

At this, Simon busts out laughing. It seems to surprise him because his eyes bulge and he clamps a hand over his mouth, muffling the sound until he can halt it. Jace feels a strange sense of pride in that, in getting a bark of laughter out of Simon without trying. 

Jace smirks. "Think that was funny, did you?" 

"I absolutely did not," Simon replies. He clears his throat and reaches around to rub at the back of his head, then he sighs. "Oh,  _ alright.  _ Let me get some blood and then we can go ruin Clary's date."

* * *

Clary's date appears ruined before they can get to it. 

Simon drives them to the restaurant Clary supposedly took Maia to for dinner, but they're not inside when he and Simon go in to check. Jace checks with the host and finds out that the man  _ did  _ see two girls fitting Clary and Maia's description head outside. So, Jace and Simon head out to try and figure out where they went next. 

That's when they hear the grunting. 

It should be weird to identify people by the sound of their grunting, but it's easy enough to do when you've fought with them, or--in Maia's case--fought  _ them.  _ The sounds are coming from the alley behind the restaurant, so he and Simon go to investigate. 

Honestly, Jace had been expecting them to be fighting someone  _ together,  _ though he hadn't been able to imagine why. He hadn't, however, been prepared to walk around the corner and see Maia punching Clary in the face. 

The first inappropriate thought he has is  _ well, I guess the date didn't go well.  _

The second is  _ damn, Maia throws a good punch.  _

His third thought is moderately more appropriate for the situation and is bred from the sight of Clary kicking Maia right in the gut and launching her clear across the alley where her back slams into the brick wall hard. It crosses his mind quickly and has him moving as it echoes in his head on one simple loop of  _ shit, shit, shit…  _

"Stop!" Jace shouts, yanking Clary back as she tries to march toward Maia with threat in her eyes. 

Maia doesn't seem to hear his warning and shoves away from the wall with a growl, her entire body shaking. Jace can actually see this going from bad to worse in the flash of green in her eyes, but Simon comes skidding to a blurred stop in front of her, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. Maia snarls at him. 

"Woah, woah, easy," Simon says softly, throwing Jace a wide-eyed look over his shoulder before focusing entirely on Maia. "Hey, just--just talk to me. What's going on?" 

"What's going on is she only agreed to go on this date with me to attack me!" Clary shouts, shoving against Jace's hands with her face twisted into a scowl. He can also see the flush of mortification in her cheeks. 

"What?" Simon blurts. "No way. Maia wouldn't--" 

"I  _ had to,"  _ Maia snaps, her eyes locked onto Simon with anger brimming in them. "She--she has to die, Simon." 

It's Jace's turn to blurt,  _ "What?!"  _

"She has the perfect angel blood that can activate the soul sword and kill all the downworlders," Maia declares, tipping up her chin. It doesn't hide the fear that flashes across her face. 

"How do you know about that?" Jace asks sharply. 

Maia swallows. "Everyone knows about it by now." 

"So you agreed to go on a date with me just to--to try and kill me?" Clary snaps, anger lacing her voice. That doesn't cover the hurt in her tone, either.

"No, I--I agreed before I knew," Maia admits, crossing her arms and looking down to her feet. "You asked at the party, and you're--I mean, I figured it could be fun. But then I overheard about the soul sword." 

"She's scared, Clary," Simon murmurs, ever the mediator. He slowly takes a step to the side, tense like he expects Maia to pounce, but when she doesn't, he looks over at Clary and Jace. "She's a survivor, and she just...reacted." 

"She tried to kill me." Clary wraps her arms around herself, and Jace can tell that she's--oddly enough--more upset about the date being a lie than Maia trying to kill her. "She went on a date with me, then tried to kill me." 

Jace can't help the pang of pity in his chest. At this moment, she just looks small and hurt and used. He's never really thought of her in terms of his little sister, but he's unsurprised to feel the natural brotherly protective instincts that take over, the same way they would if it was Izzy curling in on herself. 

Before he knows what he's doing, he slides his arm around her shoulders and gives her a half-hug, turning to glare at Maia. "Real good form, Maia," he says sarcastically. "Play with her heart, then try to stab her in it. Real fucking nice." 

"Jace," Simon warns, "ease up. She's  _ scared."  _

"Are you?" Clary asks, her voice suddenly strong as she steps away from Jace and looks Maia dead in her eyes. 

Maia stares at her in disbelief. "Aren't  _ you?  _ Everything is so messed up right now. Your batshit crazy father is trying to get rid of me, my pack, Simon, and the entire Downworld. What else am I supposed to do besides be fucking  _ scared,  _ Clary?" 

"I--I would never try to--to…" Clary trails off, her throat bobbing as she blinks hard. Staring at Maia, she whispers, "I'm not my father."

Jace's heart wenches in his chest. He wants to take Clary aside, to tell her that he understands, to promise her that they're better than their father. 

Maia just looks at Clary sadly. "I know that, but you are his weapon," she replies softly. 

Clary and Maia stare at each other for a long, silent moment. Jace glances over to Simon, seeing that he's already looking back. When he shrugs, Jace awkwardly returns the gesture. Still, the girls continue to stare at each other, so Jace clears his throat. 

Finally, Clary announces, "Maia is right." 

"What? No, Fray, you don't--" 

"No, she is." 

"Clary," Jace says sharply, staring at her in warning. 

"I'm Valentine's weapon right now," Clary says, taking a deep breath and straightening up. She nods at Maia. "I just have to make sure that he doesn't get to use me. Maia, I know why you did what you did, but you don't have to be scared. I'm going to go to the Institute, and I won't step foot outside until he's caught, I promise." 

Maia bites her bottom lip for a moment, her arms dropping limply to her sides. "Really?" 

"I promise," Clary repeats, fiercer this time. 

Jace releases a deep breath and shares a look of relief with Simon. Well, that was easier than they were expecting, but also harder, in a way. 

"Thank you," Maia whispers. "I'm, uh, sorry for trying to kill you. Especially on a date." 

Clary huffs a short laugh, tilting her head and smiling a little bitterly. "Hey, I can take a hint. There won't be another one." 

Maia winces, but doesn't protest. 

"Well, great," Jace declares, coughing a little to break up the weird tension between the two girls. "So, why don't we get Clary home safe and sound, and then--" 

Clary cuts him off with a shriek as she suddenly stumbles backwards against the wall. Everyone, including Maia, rushes to her aid immediately. Jace starts to ask her what's wrong, but before he even begins, she holds her hand out through her whimpers of pain. He sees the source of the issue immediately. 

Her hand is rotting. 

Maia blurts out, "What the fuck is  _ that?"  _ and yeah, that about sums it up. 

* * *

Jace tries to call Alec, but he doesn't pick up. At first, he's annoyed by this, remembering that his parabatai had promised to come if Jace needed him. Then, with wariness, he goes from being annoyed to actually concerned because Alec doesn't break promises lightly, especially not ones he made to Jace. 

It's getting darker out slowly but surely, and with it, Clary's hand rots more. Thankfully, it's not a fast process, so they must have time to figure out what exactly it  _ is.  _ Jace figures the pain comes in waves because, as of right now, she's just staring at her deteriorating skin with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

Simon keeps glancing over to the passenger seat where Clary is, his eyes wide with worry, and Jace does his absolute best to avoid doing it, too. Instead, he glances at Maia periodically. She's in the back of the van with him, trying--and failing--to mask her own concern. She appears to be attempting to chew a hole into her lip. 

Jace isn't entirely sure what kind of relationship Maia and Clary have--he wasn't even aware that they ever talked before Magnus' party. Whether she actually agreed to go on a date with Clary simply because she was curious, or because she actually was interested in her, still remains a mystery. But it's clear, no matter what weird situation they've stumbled into, that Maia doesn't  _ actually  _ want Clary to die--which is irony at its finest, considering that she tried to kill her only an hour ago. Though, Jace thinks she wouldn't have gone through with it had the chance actually presented itself. 

Clary hisses in a sharp breath from the front seat, breaking the stilted silence and drawing every gaze to her. She holds up her hand with a low groan, staring at it as the rot creeps down past her first knuckles. Once it slows to a stop, she releases a deep breath and lets her head fall back against the headrest. 

"It's okay, Fray," Simon murmurs. His voice is quiet as if he's telling a secret, but everyone can hear him--too many advanced beings in one space. Reaching across the space between them, he fumbles to squeeze her shoulder in open reassurance. "We're almost at Magnus'. We'll figure this out in no time." 

"Thanks, Simon," Clary whispers. 

She doesn't say anything else for the entire ride, her face angled toward the window. Jace can see her reflection, the weariness that marrs her face and makes her look in desperate need of sleep. He averts his eyes. 

When they arrive at Magnus' loft, it's a quiet walk to the front door. Clary hides her hand in her jacket, not meeting anyone's eyes, and Maia hangs back a little warily, as if she's not used to being along for the ride in moments like this. That, or maybe she doesn't really want to be here, but Jace somehow doubts that. 

Jace does the knocking, though he feels weird about it. He doesn't knock when he comes in usually, so it feels a little strange. It's almost crazy how this place has somewhat started to become his home, despite the fact that it's his parabatai's boyfriend's apartment. 

A moment later, Magnus is opening his door with a small frown tugging at his lips. Jace can tell instantly that he's bothered by something, or upset, but now isn't the time to press the issue. 

"Well, this looks promising," Magnus mutters sarcastically, peering out at them with unabashed resignation. It's like he's expecting there to be a problem, already accustomed to issues following them around and guiding them to his door--it would probably be insulting if it wasn't true. "Do come in and lay your problems at my feet to fix for you." 

That guilt from before that he felt towards Simon rears its head again, making Jace's stomach squirm unpleasantly as Magnus walks away from the door, leaving it wide open. Clary immediately goes in, not a stutter in her step, and Simon follows her with concern still marring his face. Maia hesitates before Jace waves a hand to gesture her in, then she straightens up and walks inside without a word. Jace is the last to go in, and he locks the door when he closes it because he can, because he's a little paranoid, because he lives here. 

"Magnus," Jace starts. 

"So, what seems to be the problem this time?" Magnus asks quickly, cutting him off before he can say much else. 

Clary holds up her hand. 

It all goes downhill from there. Magnus is swept up in it almost immediately, and Jace listens until his head hurts. He catches the gist, though. Clary gave a blood oath to Iris, so now that Valentine has kidnapped Madzie, Iris activated that oath. Clary only has so long to save Maddie before the rot spreads and kills her. 

It doesn't look promising. In fact, it looks like it's at the worst it will ever be. They have no idea how to find Valentine, so they aren't going to be able to locate Madzie either. The rot now has a time sentence that will result in death should the clock run out, a bigger danger than Jace was hoping for yet somehow expected. 

Their lives can never be easy. 

With a sigh, he stops listening to Magnus talk about the depths of blood oaths, already knowing the majority of it. Simon, Maia, and Clary are utterly enraptured, listening keenly to the knowledge. Jace, on the other hand, breaks off from the group to slip into his room. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sits down on the bed, listening to the phone ring in his ear. 

This time, Alec picks up with a gruff, "I'm busy." 

"Wait, wait," Jace says quickly, his tone sharp with seriousness. He knows Alec is prone to hanging up when he's otherwise distracted, so he catches his attention immediately. "Clary is going to die." 

That, as expected, does the trick. 

Jace explains everything he knows. Alec listens. There's always something soothing about that, about having someone who will always be there for him, no matter what. It's just...nice. Alec has always been a source of comfort for him, a best friend, a brother, his parabatai. 

Alec is also a certain brand of seriousness. He doesn't get distracted from his mission very often, single-minded and focused. He does what needs to be done, and he always has a plan. Before Magnus, his entire life was getting orders and following them with ruthless precision. He never had that rebellious streak that Izzy, Max, and Jace have naturally. After Magnus, however…

He's still serious, and he still carries out his missions with scary efficiency, but things are a little different now. These days, Alec is a lot more lax on what missions he takes on. Now, he'll get orders and alter them to fit what's right rather than what's expected. Through love, he's opened up his mind to the fact that there are some things that don't qualify as rules or order because they're just plain wrong. He has no shame in it, never once regretting the decisions he makes that will displease his parents or the Clave, not if the choices are  _ good.  _

It makes him happier, Jace can tell. It also opens him up to getting bombarded with requested help from all individuals. Everyone knows Alec has a cool head, but since he's unabashedly fallen in love with Magnus, they all know he has a good heart, too. 

That's why Jace just assumes that Alec isn't here. Maybe someone at the Institute needed advice, or help, and of course he went. That must be why he didn't answer the phone when Jace called. That's what he thinks. 

So, it comes as a little bit of a shock when Jace casually asks what he's doing, and Alec just pauses before quietly saying, "It's Izzy, Jace." 

Jace blinks. "Izzy?" he blurts, his heart immediately sinking to his stomach. "Is she okay? What's wrong? Does she need me? I can be there in--" 

"No, no, she's--it will be okay," Alec assures him quickly, though Jace can tell he's actually worried. "Listen, I'm going to try and help with Clary, okay? I'll contact the Clave and find out where Iris last saw Madzie, and we'll go from there. But I'm going to be taking care of Izzy in between all of this, so--so if you could… Just tell Magnus I'm sorry, okay?" 

"Hey," Jace murmurs, his voice softening as he looks down to his knees, "what happened? You know you can talk to me, right?" 

Alec is silent for a long moment, then he blows out a deep breath. "I know, Jace. It's just a little complicated right now. It's--we're all too busy. I yelled at Magnus for something that wasn't his fault because I was worried about Izzy, but that's no excuse. Just...before you leave, can you please tell him that for me?" 

"Yeah, of course," Jace says quickly. "Whatever you need."

"Thanks." Alec sighs again. He sounds exhausted. "I'm going to figure out what I can, then I'll call you back." 

A few moments later, Jace is dropping his phone on his bed and taking a deep breath. He tries to relax his shoulders, but it's no use. The tension makes him ache, makes him stressed out, though there's no use for it. He has to keep a clear head if he's going to help everyone make it through this complicated bullshit. 

His head snaps up at the tentative knock on his door, and he watches it slowly ease open as Simon warily pokes his head in. He looks vastly uncomfortable, like he knows he doesn't belong in Jace's room, but he's also determined, apparently, because he walks in anyway after a brief moment of hesitation. 

"Can I help you?" Jace asks, arching an eyebrow. 

Simon stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket, his gaze slowly bouncing around the room in open curiosity, catching on Dave Buster that is, just as Jace said, casually sitting on his dresser. For a split second, Simon's lips twitch up into an amused smile before they fall right back into a worried frown. It's the equivalent of a small beam of sunshine breaking through clouds on a stormy day, only for the clouds to shift right back over it. 

"Sorry, Clary said someone should check on you, and Magnus volunteered me," Simon tells him. "You look like you could use a nap." 

"A nap for about thirty years sounds great," Jace mutters, heaving a sigh. "Are the others still talking?" 

Simon shrugs a little. "It's winding down now, I think. Mostly just Maia trying to talk Clary into letting her try and sniff out Madzie's scent around Brooklyn alone. Clary is resistant to the idea, rightfully so, and they're kind of bickering at the moment." 

"And Magnus?" 

"Drinking. Heavily." 

"Ah," Jace says with a small nod, "fair enough." 

"You're stressed," Simon notes. He seems to make the executive decision to throw all caution to the wind and just cross the room to plop down on the edge of Jace's bed, right next to him. "We'll find Madzie, you know. Somehow, some way, we will. Valentine wants Clary alive, right? To use her, I mean. So, maybe if we somehow found a way to tell him, he'll just…" 

"What?" Jace asks derisively when Simon trails off uncertainly. "Give her up? Valentine doesn't just let go of his leverage, Simon." 

"I don't know." Simon pulls one hand from his pocket and rubs it over his face, his shoulders slumping. "I guess I'm just trying to be optimistic, that's all." 

"Well, someone has to," Jace mumbles, staring down at his tangled fingers with a small frown. "I called Alec, so he might have some information for us soon. Just whatever the Clave can get from Iris, but it's a shot at least. Until then, we wait." 

Simon hums, dropping his hand and looking over at Jace with a grim expression. "We wait." 

"If I'm stressed, you must be close to a meltdown." Jace flicks his gaze over Simon, taking in the weariness that seems to wrap around him like a coat. He looks young, but aged beyond his years. "Are you going to make it?" 

"Sure," Simon says with faux cheer, "as long as Clary does. She's my best friend. I can't--I won't lose her." 

"I'm going to kill him," Jace murmurs, turning his gaze away from Simon, staring at the blank wall beside the door. He can feel Simon watching him. "When we find him, I'm going to handle it. He won't be able to hurt anyone, or use Clary, not if he's dead." 

The sound of Simon's thick swallow seems to ring in Jace's ears. "He's your dad, Jace." 

"So?" Jace whips his head around to glare at Simon, rage coursing through his veins. "What does that have to do with anything? My job is to clean the world of evil, whether that be demons from a different dimension or someone who's trying to fuck things up. Valentine? He's the worst thing I've ever encountered, and father or not, he--he deserves it. Someone has to, so I might as well." 

"Sure, you  _ could,"  _ Simon agrees, lightly clicking his tongue. He frowns at Jace. "Or, you know, you could just  _ catch  _ him, give him to the Clave, let him pay for his crimes that way. You shouldn't have to kill your own father, Jace, no matter how evil he is." 

Jace scoffs. "I might be the only one who can." 

"Full of yourself, aren't you?" 

"No, just realistic. I know how he thinks, how he fights, his motivations. No one knows him the way I do. No one  _ gets  _ him the way I do." 

Simon's eyebrows raise. "Okay, ominous. What, do you think that you're  _ like  _ Valentine?" 

Jace snaps his mouth shut, his tangled fingers breaking apart to curl into fists. He looks away and doesn't answer. He's not sure what he'll say if he tries to. Truth be told, Jace doesn't think he's like Valentine; he's  _ scared  _ that he is. The man did raise him for most of his childhood, after all, training him and teaching him and molding him. It's impossible to think that he's not a little bit of his father, even if the thought hurts. 

He doesn't want to say any of this, especially not to Simon. Frustratingly enough, he's found that it's far too easy to talk to Simon. Maybe it's the way Simon rambles, words lost in a sea of more words, a trap that draws Jace in until he's suddenly too far out without a float. Even just casually talking to Simon is a mystery in and of itself. He never knows whether their easy bickering will somehow lead into heavy conversation, or if it'll stay light and easy. It's a toss-up with him, really. 

"I need to speak with Magnus," Jace finally declares after a long, uncomfortable pause that Simon undoubtedly could parse out the answer to his question from. 

As he starts to push to his feet, Simon abruptly hops up and pushes him down by the shoulder, keeping him where he is. "Don't get up. I'll go get him." 

With that, Simon is heading to the door and walking right out of the room without a word. It's a simple, kind gesture for Simon to make the trip for him, one that probably comes as easy as breathing. He's just genuine and nice like that, to the point that it pains Jace to see it. The effortlessness in which Simon powers on and continues to try and be altruistic when the world hasn't treated him with care...it makes Jace helpless to stop the pulsing respect he feels for him. 

Jace's fists loosen while he waits for Magnus to show up. He can feel his own exhaustion making him sluggish, so he takes a moment to use his stele and draw a rune into his skin, blinking rapidly as it takes effect. A small sigh escapes him at the relief of being rejuvenated, his mind just a bit clearer. It pays to be a Shadowhunter. 

He's relishing in that right up until another knock comes at his door and Magnus hip-checks it open while taking a large gulp of whatever he's drinking at the moment. At the sight of him, that earlier guilt comes crawling back, and his pride in being a Shadowhunter goes down a few notches. He regrets the rune instantly. 

In all honesty, Jace didn't used to care all that much about downworlders. He never blatantly disregarded their rights like his father, but he was definitely ignorant to their issues. He's been spoonfed since he was a child--especially with Valentine--that Shadowhunters are superior. They uphold the law and keep the rowdy, or sometimes downright  _ dangerous,  _ downworlders in line. That, and they protect them, if need be--though, now that he's thinking about it, those occurrences are few and far between. Most downworlders don't want to have anything to do with Shadowhunters at all. 

Not even that long ago, he never considered what the struggles of a downworlder might be. Disregarding being on duty, he just slept with fairies, depended on Warlock magic, ignored werewolves, and openly disliked vampires. And he  _ definitely  _ never, not once, contemplated whether the Shadowhunters were the ones doing something wrong. 

Then Simon happened. Then Magnus. Then Luke. Maia now, too. And his whole worldview has shifted. 

"You rang?" Magnus asks after he polishes off his drink and leans in the doorway, never stepping fully into the room, polite and respectful of his space. 

Jace's heart squeezes in his chest and not in a good way. It hurts, actually. "Yeah, I rang." 

"Nice little communication device you got there, that vampire. Those are fast," Magnus says, raising his eyebrows. Then, unexpectedly, his lips twist bitterly. "Though, they can be unpredictable, too." 

"Right," Jace mutters shortly. The guilt rises in his chest even more, nearly choking him now, and the need to squash it grows more urgent. "Magnus…" 

Magnus snaps his fingers, his glass filling up again as he sighs. "Well, what did you need?" 

That's it. That does him in. 

"I'm--I don't need anything," Jace starts, then fumbles as the guilt kicks him square in the chest. He grimaces and averts his eyes. What comes out next is long overdue and vastly awkward all at once. "Okay, I do. Not--not anything  _ from  _ you, just to say… I never told you before, and I should have, but t-thank you. For letting me stay here and…" He trails off before finishing lamely with a weak, "for everything, I guess." 

Magnus is silent for a beat, then he knocks his glass back and drains it again. He doesn't say anything for a long time, long enough that Jace can't help but look at him. There's a faraway look in his eyes like he's thinking about something that can't fully come into focus yet. 

Finally, he murmurs, "What a strange world it's become. Shadowhunters telling me thank you. That hasn't happened for a long,  _ long  _ time before Alexander. Now, it seems to be all the rage these days." 

"Well, you do a lot," Jace admits sheepishly. 

"Yes, I know." Magnus turns a clear gaze on him, not doubting his own efforts to help but holding firm to his point. "Yet, it's still intolerably new for Shadowhunters to see that, and even more depressingly new for them to be grateful for it." 

Jace swallows. "Yeah, I'm starting to realize that. So, I mean, there were  _ never  _ any Shadowhunters who…" 

"A precious few over the centuries did, yes," Magnus tells him, his smile nearly fond. "Never as many as now, not all at once, and never on such a scale as this one. I went to reinforce wards for the Institute last week. Well, that, and also to stop by and see Alec, but still. Anyway, a Shadowhunter who I've never met thanked me as I walked out the door, just a casual passing comment. That wouldn't happen without Alec's influence, you know. He's a natural leader, and people follow the path he walks without even seeming to notice." 

"Yeah, I know," Jace agrees. With a small smirk, he points to himself. "As a soldier at heart, meant to follow, I can confirm that he's making a point. I'm late, but I see it now. You've been… Well, you helped out a lot. With me, personally, I mean. And I can't--I don't know how to--" 

"If I required something from you for my help, I would have already demanded it," Magnus tells him simply. He looks down into his empty glass like it contains all the answers to this insane universe. 

Jace purses his lips, considering something for a moment, then decides  _ fuck it.  _ "I told Simon not to help Shadowhunters who haven't earned it. I don't have to tell you that, you already know, but I--well, I can now see why that's not an insult. And I didn't really earn your help, but you gave it anyway--for Alec, probably--so I'm… I'm grateful, Magnus. If you need anything, ever, I'll be there, and not just because my parabatai is dating you. Okay?" 

"Acceptable," Magnus replies, dipping his head like they've just made a business deal, though his eyes sparkle a little. "I'd say be careful with an offer like that, especially to me, but you've gone and done it now. Trust that I  _ will  _ be exploiting that at some point." 

Jace flashes a grin. "Looking forward to it." 

"For now, however," Magnus muses, his fingers sparking as his glass fills yet again, "we have work to do." 

"Already on that." Jace snaps his fingers and pushes to his feet, remembering his conversation with Alec. "I got in touch with Alec, and he's getting in contact with the Clave to find out what they can from Iris." 

"You talked to Alexander?" Magnus asks, lips tipping down. "Did he--was he alright?" 

Jace shakes his head, defaulting to honesty. "From what I could tell, not really. Something is up with Izzy--I don't know what--but he says it's going to be okay. He's just busy right now, plus with all this stuff going on with Clary." He watches Magnus knock back his drink yet again, his eyes simply sad. "But...he did ask me to tell you that he was sorry. He mentioned that he yelled at you for something that wasn't your fault, and he made sure that I would let you know that he's sorry." 

"I see." Magnus' eyes are suddenly less sad, and Jace watches the slump in his shoulders vanish. "Well, I'll be sure to get his apology directly later, after everything calms down. I would very much appreciate it if you would make yourself scarce when I do." 

Jace wrinkles his nose. "Yeah, uh, will do." 

In much brighter spirits, Magnus snaps his glass out of existence and perks up. "So, now we wait." 

"Now, we wait," Jace agrees. 

* * *

"It's a trap." 

Jace wishes with everything in him that Clary hadn't said that. Of course it's a trap. He knows that. They all know it. They've just been politely ignoring it, unwilling to acknowledge it, like it can't hurt them if they don't. 

The brief lull at Magnus' had ended the moment Alec called them back. Then the search had begun. They'd gone to the park where Valentine took Madzie, looking around for clues, and it had been a homeless man who'd provided the best one. He'd been reluctant to give up the scarf, right up until Simon offered a trade--that being, Jace's leather jacket, more specifically. Jace was sore about it for a few minutes before Clary had hissed in pain as the rot spread down past her wrist, and then he'd stopped caring about his jacket altogether. 

Now, they're tracing Madzie using the scarf, and it's painfully obvious that they're walking into a trap. Valentine isn't stupid enough to leave that option open. Still, it's rude for Clary to bring it up. 

"Maybe not," Simon offers hopefully. 

Jace grimaces, and because he's also rude, he says, "No, it definitely is. Valentine wouldn't allow Madzie to be traced unless he wanted her to be." 

"He's going to try and get to you," Maia murmurs, turning her head to look at Clary. 

"He won't." Clary clears her throat and stares down at her rotting hand. "I'm not going to be his weapon. If… I need you all to promise me that he won't take me alive. If it comes to it…" 

"Hey, Fray, don't do that," Simon says quickly, his voice going high-pitched with panic. "That's not an option, and--and I won't do it." 

"I don't want to be the catalyst to the destruction of the Downworld," Clary whispers. She glances up and looks into the rearview mirror, staring at Maia with tears gathering in her eyes. "I'll die first." 

Maia shakes her head, curls bouncing. "No, you won't. No one is going to kill you, Clary." 

"You would have killed me earlier," Clary snaps, her voice growing fiercer. "If it comes to it--" 

"It won't," Maia says firmly. "I wouldn't have been able to kill you and everyone knows it. I just started thinking about what could happen, got scared, and panicked. I'm--I was wrong for even trying, but I won't make that mistake again. You aren't like other Shadowhunters. You've proved tonight that you care about the downworlders, that you'll fight tooth and nail to make sure Valentine doesn't use you. You don't deserve to die for the blood in your veins anymore than I do because I turn into a wolf when my emotions get out of control." 

Clary shakes her head, visibly frustrated. "That's not the  _ point.  _ It--it doesn't matter what's my fault and what isn't. I'm not going to let it happen, so I need a promise that--that someone will kill me if it comes to that." 

It's obvious that Maia and Simon are about to argue with her again, but Jace cuts then off by raising his head and quietly saying, "I promise." 

Everyone goes silent. 

Clary's eyes snap over to his in the mirror, and when she blinks, a tear tumbles down her cheek. She looks small and curled into herself, but she tips her chin up and nods at him. Something passes between them, a promise, an understanding, and Jace nods back. 

He will do it, should it come to that. Not because it will be easy, not even because she asks, but because he knows that he'd be asking for the same vow in her position. Their father may have a gun, but without ammo, he can't take his shot. If Jace were the metaphorical bullets that could rip the Downworld apart, he'd rather die than unwillingly load the gun. He's also aware of something that Simon and Maia can't seem to grasp, that Clary would never be able to cope if Valentine got what he wanted from her. It would destroy her. 

"Jace," Simon whispers, openly hurt and stunned.

Looking out of the window, Jace ignores the echo of Simon's voice in his ears and the twinge in his chest as he keeps his mouth closed and doesn't reply. 

* * *

The rot has disappeared under Clary's jacket now, and her face seems to be stuck in a permanent grimace. She elects to stay in the van, and Maia stays with her, but Jace can't sit still. He paces outside restlessly. 

Making a deal with Valentine has left him feeling sick. Bargaining for Clary's life as if the price of her continued existence is dependent on Valentine's use for her, it just feels  _ wrong.  _ Still, Jace would do it one hundred times over if that meant Clary got to keep breathing. Now, they all have to wait for Valentine to deliver. 

He's taking his time. 

Jace walks from the hood of the van to the bumper, going back and forth over and over. More time passes, and Valentine still doesn't turn up with Madzie. He will. He has to, or his plan with the soul sword will never work. And yet, Jace's nerves are still frayed and he can't help but feel like tragedy is right around the corner. 

If Clary dies… 

He doesn't want to think about that, about what that will do to everyone. To Izzy, who considers Clary her best friend. To Alec, who has a soft spot for her, even if he pretends he doesn't. To Maia, who's come to realize why everyone adores her for her strength and sense of determination to do the right thing. To Simon, who's soul and being is braided with hers, from childhood to now. And to himself, because he's used to loving Clary and following her like she's a guiding light, but he's just now coming around to her as his sister and he's not ready to lose the chance to explore that. 

There are so many people who will be affected by the loss of Clary. Luke and Magnus, too. It doesn't seem fair, and the idea is a surreal one. Jace has only had Clary in his life for a short time, but imagining it without her is nearly impossible. She just has that effect on people. 

"Your pacing is making me nervous." Simon is suddenly next to him, his hair ruffled as if he's just sped at vampire speed to come around the van. The driver-side door shuts with a slam, a little late because Simon's inhumanely fast. "Well, more nervous." 

Jace pivots and walks right past Simon, keeping the same restless stride the whole way. "Valentine should be here by now. He said--" 

"He's a liar," Simon says, reaching out to snag his arm and halt him in place. He raises his eyebrows and dips his head down, lowering his voice. "Jace, he's the evil guy, remember? It would go against everything we know about him if he made this simple for us." 

"Right. Why would he?" Jace's lip curls in open distaste as he turns around and leans his back against the van. "It'd be too much to ask that he actually  _ tries  _ to be a good father, even a little." 

Simon watches him for a long moment, his hand dropping away from Jace's arm while he stares. Jace doesn't pay attention to him, but he knows that Simon has that stupid wrinkle in between his eyebrows that makes him look a little confused, and he probably has his lips slightly pursed in concentration, his dimples flashing as he no doubt chews on the inside of his cheek. 

Jace quickly checks to see if he's right, and sure enough, Simon is making that exact face. 

"Was he ever...a good dad?" Simon finally asks, his words a mere whisper like he's saying something horrible. He shifts a little uncomfortably, as if the mere idea of Valentine being a good father creeps him out. "I mean, what about when you were little?" 

Jace grunts noncommittally, but does answer. "He had his moments, I guess. It's hard for me to say what a good father is or isn't. He was all I had to go off on." 

Simon's eyebrows raise. "Robert?" 

"He was busy a lot. He's very standoffish with his own kids sometimes, so I wasn't getting much from him either." Jace shrugs carelessly. "He also had his moments. He was good about being proud and telling me that I would be an exceptional Shadowhunter someday, plus he trained me some through the years. But the Lightwoods got me when I was ten, so by then, it was mostly just training and studying anyway." 

"Yeah, Robert and Maryse didn't strike me as the  _ warm and fuzzy  _ types," Simon admits sheepishly. 

Jace frowns. "No, Maryse was. Well, sometimes. She was more inclined to it than Robert was, I mean. She hugged us when we were smaller, ruffled our hair, things like that. Only happened for a couple of years, though. By the time I turned thirteen, she'd stopped and became more focused on how our training was going. You see how she is with Max; she clearly loves him, even if she can seem a little distant." 

"And I take it that Valentine was worse than the Lightwoods both?" Simon stuffs his hands into his pockets and leans back against the van next to Jace, their shoulders brushing. He tips his head back to look up at the night sky as he says, "If they're not warm and fuzzy, then it's hard for me to imagine that Valentine was." 

Jace looks down at his boots, his chest going painfully tight. "Sometimes he was, though. From the earliest age I can remember, Valentine was teaching me  _ something.  _ Languages, runes, history, training. It took up a lot of time, but there were in-between moments where it seemed like he actually wanted me to be happy. He gave me what I wanted, let me do things that other people probably wouldn't. When I was nine, I wanted to go out to learn to swim. I begged him to let me get lessons in the lake behind our house, but he taught me himself." 

"Now I'm picturing you in floaties," Simon murmurs, his lips curling up into a weak smile. He glances over at Jace and sighs. "I mean, it's good that he was better than I was picturing. I figured it would be all trauma." 

Jace snorts and rolls his eyes. "Nah, not all of it. And, for the record, there were no floaties. Valentine just grabbed me and tossed me into the middle of the lake." 

Simon's mouth drops open as his eyes bulge.  _ "What?  _ Jace, that  _ is  _ traumatic!" 

"Sink or swim," Jace says simply, shrugging. "Hey, I didn't drown, so it worked out." 

"Our scales for what is good parenting are  _ wildly _ different." Simon shakes his head, eyes wide. 

Jace sighs. "Obviously, he had his worst moments, but he also had his best. He was wise, you know? He...knew things. I was a curious child, always asking questions, and he always patiently answered me. When he was there, he gave me his entire focus, all of it. He put the effort in with me. I just wanted to--" 

"Make him proud?" Simon suggests knowingly, his voice soft and his eyes even more so. 

"Something like that," Jace says vaguely, looking away with a scowl. "But he's made it pretty clear how worthless he is, now." 

Simon purses his lips. "Would it be better if he was still trying to be...a good dad? But like,  _ right now.  _ If he was trying for some family-fun bonding time with you and Clary in between trying to ruin the world." 

Jace shakes his head. "No, it would just be confusing. I guess it would be nice if my father wasn't a complete waste of space, but it does make it easier to want him dead. This way, there's no doubt." 

"It's okay if you do, though." Simon tips his head closer to Jace, lowering his voice again. "Have some doubts, I mean. He's your dad, so it can't be just black and white for you. There has to be some gray area, you know? Like me, for example. All evidence points to my mom being scared of what I am, maybe even hating me, but it's still hard not to believe with everything in me that she would accept me and love me regardless. Does that make sense?" 

It does. Jace wishes it didn't. Simon doesn't deserve his mother's scorn, not for this. It's not his fault. He's in over his head with this world, trying to do his best, and having to deal with the knowledge that the one person in the world who is supposed to love him no matter what won't accept him, would be  _ scared  _ of him...it can't be easy. The idea of Simon tiptoeing around lies to his mom, fabricating stories to hide who he is now, makes Jace feel a little nauseous. 

"I heard something about a...rat?" Jace ventures cautiously, turning his head to watch the reaction for that. Simon's throat bobs. 

"Yeah, it turns out that trying to be a vampire in a mundane household isn't exactly cohesive," Simon mutters, pulling his hands out of his pockets to reach up and fiddle with the frayed pieces of strings on his hoodie. He chuckles a little awkwardly. "My sister threw out my blood because she didn't know what it really was, and I just got so...hungry. I didn't--I was scared I'd attack my mom, but there was a rat… Anyway, I had tried to tell her, you know? But she thought I was going crazy and called a doctor. Then she saw me with the rat, and it was like--like she was seeing a monster. I had to call Raphael to encanto her, and then I left." 

Jace leans his head back against the cool metal van, doing his absolute best to ignore the sympathy that cramps his stomach. It angers him, this deep ache for Simon. It's not like he doesn't  _ know  _ how these things play out. He's seen it a million times, desynthesized himself to it, but it somehow seems more tragic related to Simon. 

And then, against his will, he's thinking about how many downworlders out there have similar situations. Too many. Some of them have no choice for where they end up, like Maia and Simon. Things happen and their lives change in a blink of an eye. 

Jace's worldview shifts yet again, and he can't  _ help it.  _ He wonders if this is how Alec felt when his eyes were being opened through his love for Magnus. Just this persistent ache for downworlders that he never once felt anything for, this guilt and determination to do better. 

"There are only two things that come from the Shadow World and the Mundane World colliding," Jace murmurs, opening his eyes to look over at Simon with a frown. "It's always horror, or tragedy." 

Simon gives a bitter smile. "My mom is the horror part, right?" he asks. 

Jace nods. "And you're the tragedy." 

"Yeah, that checks out," Simon agrees with a weak huff of laughter. He tugs on his hoodie strings, rubbing them between his fingers, unraveling them a bit more. "I guess I should have known. I mean, the first thing I wanted to do as a mundane in the Shadow World was get as far away from it as possible." 

"It's instinct," Jace assures him, watching Simon's fingers rain puffs of lint down from his strings. 

Simon clicks his tongue. "And yet, my dedication to Clary won out in the end and landed me here." 

"Regret it?" Jace asks. 

"Before? Yes," Simon admits, staring off into the distance with a frown. "Now? Right now, when Clary needs me, when things are...how they are? Not one bit." 

"You're too pure for your own good," Jace mumbles distractedly, watching the frayed ends of the strings get looser as Simon worries at them. 

Simon snorts, his head turning towards Jace. "If I can survive the Shadow World and still be myself, then I'll consider it a win. I don't want this to change me." 

"It already has," Jace murmurs. 

Simon pinches the strings and  _ tugs,  _ and that's about all Jace can take. Before he knows what he's doing, his body is turning to the side as his hands dart out to grasp Simon's and still them. The trajectory of the frayed strings becoming  _ more  _ frayed comes to a halt immediately, and Jace glances up at Simon to say something. What it was, he has no idea because his mouth snaps shut and his mind goes blank. 

A strange silence surrounds them, holding them in place and refusing them the simple ability to function. Jace doesn't move, just stands there with his hands cupping Simon's, blinking slowly. Simon stares at him, confusion in his gaze, not even breathing as he holds incredibly still. 

A portal suddenly opens up in the street and Clary comes stumbling out of the van with a relieved, "Oh, Madzie, you're  _ okay."  _

Jace wrenches his hands back from Simon, shoving away from the van to follow after Clary, telling himself that his racing heart has to do with Madzie finally showing up and nothing else. 

He almost believes it. 

* * *

Clary is gone. 

The thought rings in his ears on a loop from the moment Madzie opens the portal and they disappear, to the moment he, Simon, and Maia arrive where she might just be. He's been trying to stay calm, to stay focused, but he's doing a pretty shitty job. 

There's comfort in knowing that Alec had sent out people to search for her, in knowing that Maia and Simon are here with him. They're all working towards the same goal--find Clary and get the fuck out. 

Valentine, in his own way, has always had a thing for theatrics. They're in some sort of amusement park ruins with so many paths to take that their only option is to split up. It's ominously quiet, which has Jace's muscles tensed and his hair standing in anticipation. The moment Simon and Maia go in opposite directions, his wariness increases by tenfold. 

Jace wonders around for a few minutes on high alert before he hears faint whispers from his right. He follows the sound of talking, trying to parse out if it's Clary or not, but he can't. It isn't until he steps into an open space and sees Maia helping Clary to her feet that he allows himself to relax for a brief moment. 

"Clary," Jace breathes out, rushing forward to grab her by her shoulders and tug her into a short hug. 

The fact that he can do that now with no ache in his heart feels good. There's no ulterior motives, just the desire to hug a friend, a sister, as if it was Izzy. She returns the hold for a moment, some of the tension bleeding from her frame, like the contact is a source of comfort. That says a lot about her, too, and Jace is glad. 

Still, they need to leave.  _ Now.  _

Clary pulls back and reaches out to grab Maia's arm, tugging her forward. "We need to go before Valentine--" 

Like she's summoned him, Valentine comes stepping out of the shadows with Madzie at his side. She's just a little girl, but she doesn't look afraid at all. Unfortunately, neither does Valentine. 

"Going somewhere?" Valentine asks. 

Jace launches himself forward immediately, and he can see Maia doing the same right beside him, only with a truly terrifying snarl. Madzie's hands come up instantly, palms sparking, and Jace feels his entire body lock up as her magic pins him in place. He can't move, can't speak, can only watch while frozen mid-motion.

He can feel his heart racing in his chest, a weight of worry bearing down on his nerves. He tries to stay calm as Clary steps forward, walking past him and an equally frozen Maia to murmur softly to Madzie, trying to explain why she should stop helping Valentine. 

But Madzie is young, and Valentine is a master manipulator. Jace knows this first-hand. Iris is all Madzie knows, the only other Warlock who's made her feel safe, and Valentine is using her. It's a truly horrible thing to witness, showing just how fucked up Valentine really is. Jace wants to gather her up and steal her away, take her somewhere safe, keep her from his influence. 

Things take a sharp turn abruptly when Simon suddenly blurs to a stop behind Valentine, whirls him around, and proceeds to punch him in the face. If the moment allowed it, Jace would find himself laughing in pure astonished glee. 

"Run!" Simon shouts, throwing yet another punch.

Madzie drops her hands and whips around, her eyes wide, and Jace feels his control return. He starts to rush forward, this time with both Clary and Maia doing the same, only for them all to come to a screeching halt. Valentine counters one of Simon's hits and throws a couple of his own with no hesitation. The sight of Simon getting punched in the face makes Jace's teeth grind, and he hears Maia snarl again in equal displeasure. Again, they're too late to do anything because Valentine grasps Simon with infuriating ease, using his body as a shield and a way to keep them back. 

"Brave and stupid," Valentine comments, then focuses his gaze to Madzie. "Save your strength for what comes next. It's time for us to go." 

Dutifully, Madzie summons a portal. The rush of magic sounds like a wind tunnel, loud and all-encompassing, but Jace can still hear his wild heartbeat in his head. Everything is happening so fast, yet Jace knows he'll never be able to forget the way the world stands still for a second when Simon suddenly meets his eyes with his own gaze swirling with a mixture of fear and relief, like he's terrified for himself and grateful they're okay. 

"See you soon, Clary," Valentine vows, then he steps back into the portal with Madzie at his side and Simon a captive in his arms. 

Clary cries out for her best friend, rushing forward, but it's no use. They're already gone. In the resounding silence, Clary gasps in utter shock and stumbles back, right into Maia's arms. Maia shushes her quietly, holding her as Clary's whole body shudders. 

Jace stands there and stares at where Simon just was, and his hand goes lax around his seraph blade. It clatters to the floor, echoing in the near silent room. The crash rings in his ears, blocking out nearly everything else. Just like that, Simon is gone, grasped in the cold hands of the one thing that Jace fears the most. 

Jace can't breathe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Valentine is an asshole, amirite? Heh. 
> 
> Anyway, if you enjoyed it, don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and leave me comment; I really do adore every single one! 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are again, this time with Simon's POV. Let's see how he's chillin' with the villain of the show. ;)
> 
> Enjoy ❤

When Simon was fourteen and officially graduated from prepubescent nerd to hit-with-puberty nerd, he found that he had a very specific brand of...appreciation for a very specific archetype. That being: villains. Meaning, both Emma Frost and Magneto had recurring roles in his very embarrassing fantasies that he has never, and will never, tell anyone about. 

To be clear, Simon does not at all  _ like  _ villains in stories. They're the bad guys, the assholes, the ones hurting his favorite heroes. Does that mean Poison Ivy wasn't pretty much his fixation for basically an entire year? Not at all. In fact, she was for almost  _ two  _ years--mostly because of the red hair, a connection to Clary, which is also equally mortifying to think about now. 

Still, that was fantasy. 

Real-life villains have absolutely no sex appeal--not Valentine or any of the circle members with him. They're just terrifying and horrible. Even if they were the most beautiful people in the world, Simon wouldn't be able to feel anything but bone-deep fear in their presence. 

He tries to pretend that he's not scared, but he is. 

Valentine takes him to the Institute, and Simon has absolutely no idea what he's supposed to be doing. He can hear chaos out in the halls, people shouting, weapons clanging. He sits silently as Valentine disappears and comes back, disappears and comes back, disappears… 

He doesn't come back for a very long time. 

"What's happening out there?" Simon asks, looking over at the Circle member who has her weapon drawn in clear threat. When her gaze turns to him, he ignores the quivering nerves in his stomach and presses on. "He's  _ slaughtering  _ people.  _ Your  _ people, and you just--" 

"Quiet, Vampire," the woman snaps, whipping her blade out to put it against his throat. 

Simon swallows thickly and softens his tone. "Listen to me, please. Valentine is--" 

"I know perfectly well what Valentine is doing," the woman tells him sharply, stepping forward to lean down and stare into his eyes. "We all do. Those people are  _ not  _ our people." She leans in closer. "Another word out of you, and I will cut your tongue out. Are we clear?" 

"Crystal," Simon whispers, shaking his head frantically and snapping his mouth shut when her eyes narrow. 

It descends into complete silence after that. 

Simon feels like he's about to rattle out of his skin. He remembers being really young and playing Hide-and-Seek with Becky. He'd thought it would be a good idea to hide in a closet, but he ended up getting claustrophobic. He had sat in that closet for nearly an hour before Becky actually managed to find him. 

She'd found him in the same state he's in right now. Frozen in place, tremors wracking his body as he struggled to breathe around his panic and fear. Becky had eased him out of the closet and took care of him while their mother was passed out on the couch, bottle of half-empty scotch in her limp hand. 

They never played that game again. 

It's a childish notion, but Simon closes his eyes and wishes he was back there instead. That would be better than this, alcoholic mother and all. Or, even better, he wishes he could go back to when it was just him and Clary, when everything was fine and none of this existed. Back before he was a vampire, back before he died, back before he ever agreed to go to Pandemonium with Clary that night--the one that started all this. 

If he could do it differently, he would. He'd talk Clary into staying home, convince her to hug her mother before it was too late. He'd get in his van and go to college and make a life for himself, a human life that would be vibrant and mundane all at once. No danger, no death, no destruction. 

A scream outside in the hall has his eyes snapping open, his head whipping to the side as he listens. It can only be the sound of someone in immense pain, crying out in agony. He aches to help whoever it is, and before he knows what he's doing, he's pushing forward out of the chair he's been forced to sit in. 

"I will not warn you again, Vampire," the woman hisses, stepping forward while holding up her weapon again. "Do not make a move out of that seat, or I will--" 

"Cut my tongue out," Simon mutters sarcastically, flopping back into the seat with a grimace. "Got it." 

The woman clenches her blade with anger twisting her face, starting forward, and Simon presses back into the chair with an apology on his lips. He doesn't want to provoke her, doesn't want to be tortured. Or worse. 

"That's enough." Valentine enters the room again, this time with two more Circle members. He jerks his head to the side, watching the woman with a steady gaze. "I want him unharmed. Since you don't seem to be able to comply with that, you can watch the door. Go.  _ Now."  _

With a snarl in Simon's direction, she walks away with her head held high as she takes post at the door. Valentine sighs like he's dealing with a bunch of toddlers, then slowly walks around the desk to lean back against it. He crosses his arms and surveys Simon with a small frown, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side. 

"It's not going to work, you know," Simon whispers, his words shaking. He tries to sound brave, but he doesn't. He just sounds scared. "Clary won't fall into your trap." 

Valentine hums and watches Simon closely. "You're fairly close with Lucian, yes?" 

"Something like that." 

"Did he ever tell you that we were parabatai?" 

Simon swallows. "He might've mentioned it." 

"Being a Shadowhunter is…" Valentine trails off and looks at Simon like he's staring right through him, not seeing him but gazing off at some point past him. "It's a sacred duty, one you'll never be able to understand. There is a lot of loss and tragedy that comes with it, but it is an honor to go through it. Lucian and I were  _ proud  _ of what we were doing. He meant the world to me." 

"If that's true, then why did you cast him aside the moment he was turned?" Simon asks sharply. He clenches his jaw, angry for Luke. "You think him becoming a werewolf turned him into a monster, but it  _ didn't.  _ Luke is one of the best men I know. He--" 

"Do you think that was easy for me?" Valentine snaps, his eyes narrowing as he focuses on Simon. "I was young once, like you and Clarissa and Jonathan. He was my parabatai, and I knew the moment that he turned. It felt like he died as the parabatai rune left my body. He  _ did  _ die. The Lucian I once knew was gone." 

Simon shakes his head. "No. He was and is still a good man, Shadowhunter or not." 

"To be a Shadowhunter is to be superior. The weight of this life isn't easy to bear, but to take a different path rather than die is… It's  _ blasphemy."  _ Valentine takes a deep breath, leaning back as his face clears. His lips tick up in the corners. "Lucian was more than just my parabatai. He was my best friend. I loved him, so much so that I looked away when he fell in love with my wife. I didn't blame him or hate him because I trusted him to never betray me. Except he did." 

"With Jocelyn?" Simon blinks. "No, he said--" 

"No, no, not with her," Valentine says, waving a hand as if he's allowing Simon to be right. "They did wait until she was leaving me, until they believed I'd gone off the rails, at least. I'll give them that." 

"They weren't together," Simon mumbles awkwardly, clearing his throat. "For most of Clary's life, I mean. Just...friends. And now she's--" 

"I know," Valentine says. "I don't care about that. Those are childish dramas, to care about my best friend loving the one I loved. None of that matters in the grand scheme of things. What does is that I gave Lucian a choice, a  _ chance  _ to do the right thing, and he was too weak to do it. He allowed himself to become a monster, instead, and that hurt me more than you can ever know."

"Funny," Simon grits out sarcastically, "I bet he'd say the same damn thing about you." 

Valentine huffs a short laugh, his eyes ominously empty of emotion. "I never strayed from my mission. He did. But that's not the point." 

"So what is?" 

"There's a certain irony to Clarissa's situation with her best friend, isn't there? You, Simon. She turned you into a monster because she was too weak to face the pain of losing you, unlike me with Lucian. She never gave you the choice. Do you think, if she'd been raised as a Shadowhunter, that she'd choose that again?" 

"I don't know," Simon admits softly, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. "Truth is, if she had been raised as a Shadowhunter, she wouldn't have ever known me." 

"Do you ever wish that she had been?" Valentine asks, tilting his head. "To save yourself from this life." 

Simon leans forward and stares Valentine right in the eyes.  _ "Never.  _ I don't regret a damn thing." 

"You don't believe you're a monster, then?" Valentine murmurs, holding his gaze. "You were a mundane once. Vampires, no matter their portrayal in your world, are always known to be dangerous and for good reason. You never wondered how that bled over? Why that one thing stuck with fictitious displays of Vampires? You never think about other Vampires, ones that terrified you and killed you? You mean to tell me that it doesn't haunt you that you could lose control and kill countless innocents--men, women, and children--simply because you miss a few meals?" 

Remembering that night at Magnus' when he hallucinated Jace's dead body, Simon says nothing. 

Valentine smiles briefly, clearly pleased with Simon's lack of response, and he nods. "And do you think Clarissa ever regrets her weakness, her choice?" 

"No," Simon speaks up, this time sure in his reply. He sits up straighter. "Clary believes in me. She made that choice because I'm her best friend and she needs me." 

"I know," Valentine murmurs, leaning forward to pin Simon with a triumphant gaze. "And that's precisely why they'll walk into my trap. You're important to them, Vampire, and that's their mistake. My children will come for you, and when they do...this will work." 

* * *

Simon knows that it never works in the movies or comics or books, but he has the insane urge to try and  _ appeal  _ to Valentine's possible human nature. If he has one. He'd like to think that any parent, no matter their destructive motives, would throw down their weapon for their child. He has to  _ try,  _ at the very least. 

Valentine is growing impatient, that much is obvious. He's gone from seeming overly sure of himself to pacing the room and glancing at the door every few minutes. There's something strangely human about that, about his doubt, and Simon thinks there might be something human about  _ him  _ under all that evil exterior. He figures if anything can penetrate it, then it will be Clary. 

It takes him quite a long time to pluck up the bravery to speak, but when he does, he says, "Don't you wish you knew your own daughter?" 

That catches Valentine's attention immediately. He glances over with a small frown. "Excuse me?" 

"Clary, I mean," Simon clarifies uselessly. He swallows thickly and leans farther back when Valentine slowly approaches him. "You know, just--just what she's like. Did you know she's an artist? She's really talented, too. She, uh, also used to play soccer over the summer at the rec center. She was pretty good." 

"Why are you telling me this?" Valentine asks as he leans back against the desk again, tilting his head. 

Simon nonchalantly shrugs. "Do you want me to stop?" 

"No, do go on." 

"She was never scared of much, just mostly curious about everything. Too curious, sometimes. Jocelyn kept her pretty sheltered, so she always wanted to go out and explore. We used to, uh, go get lost in the city when Jocelyn thought we were at my house, and we'd have to find our way home before dark. I was always pretty scared that we'd get  _ too  _ lost or mugged, but Clary treated it like an adventure." 

"Jocelyn was right to shelter her," Valentine murmurs, frowning slightly. "She didn't have the proper training, which was Jocelyn's  _ fault,  _ but because she didn't, Clary would have never been safe." 

Simon can't help but smile a bit. "I don't know, I think we handled ourselves pretty well, even when things took a dangerous turn because…" He stops, lifting his gaze to Valentine, who waits patiently. After a beat, Simon gathers his courage and continues. "Because of you." 

"I can see that you blame me, that you all do," Valentine says with a sigh. "Even Jonathan. You're all so young, you can't understand it now. You, Simon, never will." 

"Because I'm forever young," Simon guesses bitterly. 

Valentine shakes his head. "Because you're a target." 

"I never asked for this," Simon rasps. He suddenly has to talk past a lump in his throat and he doesn't know why. He doesn't know why tears are brimming in his eyes, why his chest feels tight, why he's scared. "You think I  _ want  _ to be a Vampire? To lose my family, to never grow older, to watch the people I love die? It's not easy, you're right about that, but I'm not evil. I know that. I know I'm not, and I know not all downworlders are, just like not all Shadowhunters are good." He stares at Valentine pointedly, a tear tumbling down his cheek. When he speaks next, his voice is a croak. "You're not ending monsters, Valentine, you're creating them." 

"If I have to provide a little darkness now to create eternal light later, is that so wrong?" Valentine frowns at Simon, taking a deep breath. "You think differently, you all do, but I  _ am  _ providing a better world--not just for me, but for my children. They'll thank me one day." 

Simon shakes his head. "Clary won't. Jace won't. Those they lose, that you  _ take,  _ will weigh on them forever. They'll stop at nothing to kill you, then." 

Valentine shrugs carelessly. "If the cost of their safety and a better world is them hating me, then so be it." 

"You can't even see it, what you're doing," Simon whispers, his voice sounding awed even to his ears, but the kind of awe that comes from complete disbelief and horror. "You won't even  _ try  _ to be a father to them. This isn't about your children, this is about your agenda." 

"This  _ is  _ me being a father," Valentine hisses, abruptly leaning forward to get in Simon's face, his eyes blazing with ferocious fury. "You think you know what's best for them, but you  _ don't.  _ I do. Only me." 

Simon feels some sort of blank, empty emotion wash through him. It terrifies him, but he embraces it. This feeling can't be anything else but hatred, a burning that pours through every inch of him. He's been angry before, disliked someone,  _ strongly  _ disliked someone, but this is new. It's the taste of vengeance on his tongue, not sour like he expects, but sweet. He wants Valentine and everyone affiliated with him to burn. To die. 

"The only thing you know about your kids is how to make them suffer," Simon spits, watching triumphantly as Valentine rears back slightly. He leans forward, holding Valentine's gaze, pouring as much spite and loathing into his own expression as he can. "Jace is going to kill you, and when he does, I'm going to lick the blood off his blade." 

The hit that lands is to be expected, really. 

Valentine slaps him with a snarl of rage, but Simon just closes his eyes and takes it. Hatred is one hell of a drug, one that Simon feeds off of now. He takes the hits that Valentine rains down on him, clenching his teeth and swallowing his own blood when his fangs scratch his gums. Eventually, Valentine tears himself away, panting and flushed, looking wild and unkempt and  _ human.  _

The sight of him like this fills Simon with satisfaction. He stares at Valentine without an ounce of fear. The time to be scared has passed; there's no point, not now. He can see that Valentine won't be swayed, not even for his own children, and that means… 

Simon knows, one way or the other, that he's going to die. He's not making it out of this alive, and that realization frees him in ways he's not expecting. 

If he's going to die, then he'll do it being the thorn in Valentine's side the entire time. 

* * *

"And then he said for me not to help Shadowhunters unless they earned it. How ironic, huh? It's almost as if his racist, egomaniac father has changed his mind entirely about the Downworld. In fact, he seems to like downworlders a whole lot more than Shadowhunters these days. I mean, he lives with a Warlock. He's really great friends with a werewolf--two, actually. Funny, Luke has seemed to be a sort of father figure for him. Hell, he even went on a date with me! We had a great time, we really did. I got him a bear, you know. He named it Dave Buster, and it was--" 

"SHUT UP!" 

Simon snaps his mouth shut almost instantly, going still and leaning back to avoid the blade pressing into his throat. He knows he's gone too far, can tell by the way Valentine is panting with a homicidal look in his eyes. 

_ I'm going to die anyway,  _ Simon tells himself, doing his best to ignore the trembles that dance along his nerves, belaying his instinctual fear. 

Simon swallows and holds Valentine's gaze. "Shutting up isn't really my strong suit. I talk a lot, especially to Clary. To Jace now, too, funnily enough. I've talked to them about you before, you know." 

"Have you?" Valentine snaps, his nostrils flaring. 

"It's sad," Simon whispers, ignoring the blade against his throat, ignoring everyone else in the room but Valentine. If his heart was able to beat, it would be attempting to race out of his chest right about now. "There was nothing more that Clary ever wanted than to know about her father, but what she found out only ended in bitterness and disappointment. And Jace? He hates you and everything you stand for. He'd sooner kill you than look at you, thinking he's doing the same thing you are, ridding the world of evil. The difference between you and him? He's  _ right."  _

"You think you know them so well," Valentine murmurs, narrowing his eyes. 

Simon holds his ground. "Yeah, I do. I know they're not going to fall for your games. You might as well kill me now and condemn yourself further because, the way I see it, you're all out of options." 

Valentine smiles a tight-lipped smile. "You're going to wish you hadn't said that, Vampire." 

"Wouldn't be the first time," Simon admits. 

"But it will be your last." Valentine looks over at one of the circle members and nods towards Simon. "Find his phone, and get me something to shut him up." He meets Simon's gaze with a victoriously malicious gleam in his eyes. "Let's give my children some incentive, shall we?" 

* * *

There's something about knowing you're going to die, then getting to experience it. This will be his second time going through this process, and Simon has to admit that it's not exactly that great the second time around. 

When he was alive and about to die, there was a certain kind of survival instinct that kicked in. He remembers the terror of it, how utterly horrible it was. The pain, at first, had been something that he fought, naturally trying to flinch away from it. He knew he was dying when he clung to the pain, trying to stay alive--at least if he was feeling it, then that meant he was still trying. He then realized that he couldn't survive, that he was going to die, when the pain became muted and disappeared entirely. 

There was a strange stillness to dying, a numb spread that had gently lapped through him like waves upon a shore. Eventually, the pain dimmed and it was a relief. He was simply too exhausted to fight anymore, and that's when he knew he had no choice but to accept it. He laid there that day, among those vampires, and they sucked the blood right from his veins until there was nothing else for him to give. And that was it. He died. 

But that was not the end. This time, he fears, it might be. 

Being dead and dying is something else entirely. There is no survival instinct, possibly because he's already dead. He's not clinging to life. He  _ can't.  _ There's no fighting, no trying, just a deep, monstrous hunger. 

It takes root when his eyes slip shut and he can't open them anymore. He can feel it, that desperate burn in his throat that fills all the space in his mind. He knows nothing else but the ache in his gums and the throbbing heartbeats of the people in the room around him. There's the last-ditch effort within him that tries to fight his urges, but his humanity is draining out of him from the slit in his throat, leaving nothing else but the deep-ingrained compulsion to feed. 

Vampire or not, he can't do much when over half of the blood in his body has been drained out. He slumps in the seat with his eyes closed, and he drifts. 

There's a thing about Vampires petrifying. He'll think about it later. About how they go still and lack the blood to reanimate. It's in some lore in the Mundane World, depending on what movies you watch and what books you read, but Simon has heard of it. He never gave much thought to it, but he will. 

He will because he's pretty sure that's what's happening to him now, in a way. Valentine has slit his throat and he's reaching critically low levels of blood supply. A human would be dead by now, not enough blood to pump their heart and preserve their body and organs. But he's not human, so he ends up in this stasis where he teeters the line between dead and undead. Soon, though, he will eventually lose that last drop and it will be over. 

Simon wishes it would happen already. He wants to escape this hunger, to just be done with it. The thing about it is, the ache for blood  _ hurts.  _ It's painful, slicing through him, an agonizing torture he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy--and, seeing as that's Valentine right now, that's really saying something. 

He suffers. 

He drifts. 

Then, suddenly, there's a voice. He knows that voice, would know it no matter how far gone he was. He tries to open his eyes but can't, and he barely feels the cool hands on his cheek. His entire  _ being  _ yearns for the warmth next to him, not for comfort but for the  _ blood.  _

He can smell it when it enters the air. It's the sweetest thing he's ever smelled, and his gums tingle despite his fangs already being unsheathed. He can hear her, can just about parse out what she's doing, and the scent of her blood brings a jolt of life to him. 

With life comes the flicker of humanity. Just enough to groan and turn his head away from the blood, even while everything within him protests it. Clary shushes him, tells him to drink, and he fights it. He tries to fight it  _ so hard,  _ knowing that he won't be able to stop. If he gets one taste of it, he knows he'll kill her. 

"Simon, you have to," Clary whispers, pressing her bleeding wrist to his lips insistently. 

That's all she wrote. The blood hits his tongue, just a drop, and all of Simon's efforts go out the window. The blood tastes like heaven on his tongue, something divine and holy. He groans and laps a little more in his mouth, managing to shift his head forward a bit. His fangs break the skin next, and blood pours down his throat. 

He hears Clary release a sigh of pleasure, a soft sound of ecstasy, and something within him relishes in it. For as long as it feels good, he'll get to keep doing it, and he doesn't want to stop. He won't. 

He lifts a shaky hand and grips her thin wrist, holding it a bit too hard as he feeds. He drinks until he can open his eyes and see Clary with her head thrown back, a tear sliding down her cheek, her mouth parted around a soundless moan. He drinks until the ache lessens and the fire in his veins and throat soothes. He drinks until he can feel the blood-flow slowing as he takes too much, and then he drinks some more. 

He's going to kill her, and he doesn't care. 

Then, abruptly, he's being ripped away. He gasps at the loss, being pinned back against the couch, but they don't know. None of them know. He feels vibrant and  _ alive,  _ feels powerful, and he knows this blood has made him stronger. He could fight and  _ win,  _ and he knows it, but they don't. None of them do. 

He doesn't move. That part of him that's  _ him  _ and nothing else, the part that makes him sure that he's good...it comes crashing over him in one swift motion. He knows and understands how wrong he was, how close he came to killing his best friend. He won't risk anything, not when everyone in this room could get their hands on Clary right now. 

Instead, he sits on the couch, tense and breathing heavily from the rush of the incredible blood in his veins, and he watches as Clary shudders and shudders and-- 

That's not Clary. 

Simon watches as Clary transforms before his very eyes, whatever magical disguise that's there falling away to reveal Jace. A panting, wide-eyed Jace. A Jace who is staring right at him with a bobbing throat and an intense look in his eyes, who holds Simon's shocked gaze for a moment before looking away and clenching his jaw. 

Simon swallows thickly. "Jace," he whispers. 

Jace doesn't reply, doesn't even look at him. 

Simon wants to say more, to apologize, to at least catch Jace's gaze and try to figure out what he's feeling. They don't get that chance, however, because everything suddenly seems to happen in a blur. Things go from tense to precarious, to  _ very  _ precarious, to a flurry of action that Simon is in no way ready to go along with. 

But he does. 

He attacks because he can't not, and he's strong. He won't let Jace do this alone, not this, not when he's capable. He's been practicing with Clary, training a little, and he knows how to throw a decent punch, plus Jace's blood is coursing through him and it makes him feel like he's invincible. He sails off the couch and slams two circle members up against the wall, doing his best to ignore the sounds of fighting behind him. 

A few moments later, the circle members are knocked out, and Simon whirls around to see Jace staring at him, his chest heaving with exertion. For a split second, they just stare at each other, but Jace shreds the moment by turning and ripping a blade off the wall and tossing it to him, his throat bobbing. 

"You did good," he praises, nodding to the circle members passed out at Simon's feet. 

Simon tightens his hand on the grip, swallowing. "Thanks. I've been practicing." 

"Alright, come on," Jace says easily, jerking his head towards the doorway pointedly. 

"Jace," Simon starts, but Jace just ducks his head and dips out of the room, leaving him no choice but to follow. 

Simon's mind races as he crouches down behind Jace, letting himself be led down the hallways, always at the ready. There are too many things to think about, like what Jace's plan here is, like how they're going to get out of this one without any of the downworlders dying. Instead, his mind fixates on what happened back there, on the tear that ran down Jace's (as Clary) cheek, on the way Jace-as-Clary had walked in there and slit his wrist for Simon without hesitation. 

He wants to open his mouth and thank Jace, and apologize, and ask questions that he's scared to have answered. Mostly, he wants to know why things feel different between them now, why Jace would do something like that when it's so dangerous. It feels like Jace  _ cares,  _ and Simon doesn't know what to do with that. 

They eventually reach the center of the Institute, standing around the corner and waiting. Jace leans back against the wall and breathes, his head tipping back as he closes his eyes. He looks heartbreakingly pretty like that, his large black shirt rumpled and slipping off his shoulder, his Adam's apple rising and falling around a swallow. He clutches at his wrist, the one Simon bit, and his lips part around a soft sigh. 

"Jace," Simon whispers again, stepping forward to reach out and grab his hands. He peels Jace's fingers away from the bite, staring down at the puncture wounds. 

"I'm fine," Jace tells him quietly. "I've had worse." 

Simon brushes a thumb over the wound, feeling the tremble that goes through Jace's body in response. It makes his mouth go dry. "Thank you for saving my life back there," he murmurs. "I would have died." 

"I wasn't going to let that happen," Jace assures him firmly, gently pulling his hands from Simon's grip, rolling his sleeve over the bite. 

"Are you okay? Seriously?" Simon inches closer, his concern making his chest tight. "I--I took too much, and I couldn't… Jace, I couldn't stop." 

Jace stares at him for a moment, a strange look in his eyes that Simon can't decipher. "I know, Simon." 

"I would have killed you," Simon chokes out, blinking hard. 

Jace swallows and holds his gaze as he breathes out an unbearably soft, "I would have let you." 

That makes Simon's mind go blank. He suddenly remembers sitting at Magnus', telling Jace that he'd never kill him whether he was starving or not, and Jace had promised that he wouldn't let him. It seems, horrifyingly enough, that they both had been wrong about that. When it comes down to it, they're apparently both incapable of doing what's right. 

"I'm so sorry," Simon says.

"Don't be," Jace replies. 

A commotion from the room around the corner steals their attention, shattering whatever moment is happening between them. Jace twists to the side to peer around, and Simon inches closer warily to poke his head around the corner to watch what's happening. His stomach cramps with fear and anxiety when he sees Clary being yanked into the room by Valentine. 

"He's going to make her touch the soul sword," Simon hisses, his eyes wide. 

Jace turns towards him, his gaze flicking over Simon's face. "Hey, that's not going to happen. I'm not going to let you or anyone else die, I promise." 

"This ends with Valentine," Simon tells him seriously, balling his hands into fists. "Jace, I--I know you said that you're going to kill him, but--" 

"I  _ am,"  _ Jace interrupts sharply. 

Simon nods. "Good, because that's what I need you to do. If you can get close enough, can you--" 

"Yes," Jace replies instantly. 

Taking a deep breath, Simon holds Jace's gaze for a long moment. Then, with one last nod, he pulls away. Adrenaline courses through him, accompanied by fear and hope, and he pushes himself into a blurring run. All he has to do is get Clary away from that sword and Valentine near Jace's, and the rest will work itself out. 

Jace's blood really has done wonders for his speed and strength. In between one blink and the next, he's whipped through the room and tackled Clary away from Valentine, sending them all careening to the side. In the fumble, he manages to get the blade Jace gave him into Clary's hand. They both scramble up together, Clary now with a weapon, Simon a weapon in his own right. 

It's almost scary how they handle the circle members. Clary stabs one through the shoulder and kicks him in the face until he goes still, a mere slump on the ground. Simon tackles the other to the floor, bearing down on his throat with his forearm until he sags from finally, thankfully passing out. They work as a team to deal with the others, a force to be reckoned with. 

In the end, the unconscious bodies are scattered around the room, and Simon is helping Clary up off the floor. They lock eyes for a moment, gazes catching, something passing between him. There's a certain rush from fighting that Simon isn't accustomed to, but with Clary and for her, he would do it every day. 

Clary squeezes his arm and whispers, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Simon says. "Are  _ you?"  _

"I'm going to be. Where's Jace?" 

"He's--" 

"I'm here," Jace announces, his voice ringing in the otherwise silent room. 

There's something in his expression that Simon doesn't like. A look in his eyes, something sad, something tragic. He walks right past them, heading for the soul sword, and Simon catches Clary's arm. Whatever Jace is about to do, he trusts him to do it. 

"Jace," Clary hisses, "what are you  _ doing?"  _

"What needs to be done," Jace says simply. 

Simon doesn't understand. 

"If you touch the sword, it will kill you," Clary bursts out desperately, straining against Simon's arm. 

Simon suddenly understands. 

"Stop!" Simon blurts out frantically, dropping Clary entirely and darting across the room to catch Jace's hand as it reaches for the soul sword. Jace stares at him, his eyes wide, and Simon shakes his head. "What is she talking about? This--this will kill you?" 

Jace tries to force his hand forward, but Simon keeps his wrist in a steel grip, unrelenting. The wide-eyed stare quickly morphs into a glare as Jace says, "Let me  _ go,  _ Simon." 

"Tell me the truth," Simon insists harshly. 

"Yes, okay?  _ Yes."  _ Jace takes a deep breath and tilts up his chin. "I can deactivate the sword, Simon, that way Valentine can never use it. I'll die, but everyone will be safe. I  _ have  _ to do this, and you have to let me." 

Simon shakes his head immediately. "No, I don't. I'm not going to let you." 

"You can't stop me," Jace whispers. 

"Wanna bet?" Simon squeezes Jace's wrist, standing his ground. "You'll have to kill me before I just stand by and let you kill yourself." 

"Simon, don't do this." Jace sets his shoulders and widens his stance, leaning back. He holds Simon's gaze, his hand caught in Simon's grip going stiff. "I can bring an end to all of it. You're not going to keep me from doing what's right, and you know that it's this." 

Simon prepares his body for a tackle, forcing himself to be relaxed and loose like Clary taught him. "It doesn't matter. I'm not going to let you do this, but you're welcome to try. Come at me, Lightwood." 

"I'm a Morgenstern," Jace grits out, his eyes sad. 

With that, Jace shoves forward, pushing Simon backwards with a grunt. Simon keeps his hold on Jace's wrist and tugs him down, twisting and rolling Jace beneath him. He means to pin Jace down until reinforcements arrive, but Jace isn't cooperating with that. Instead, he swings his elbow out and knocks Simon to the side, scrambling away with a gasp. 

Simon is faster and stronger right now, thankfully, and that allows him to whip an arm around and catch Jace's ankle. With a wince of sympathy, he yanks Jace's foot from under him, sending him face-first to the floor. 

"Stop it!" Clary shouts, sounding at a loss. "Jace, Simon, stop! Just--just stop fighting!" 

Jace pushes himself up and tries to rip his ankle from Simon's hand, but Simon holds on tight. Looking back at him, Jace scowls and flips around to his back, sitting up to pry Simon's fingers away. 

"Let me go, Simon!" he demands roughly. 

Simon digs his nails in. "No!" 

With a growl, Jace raises his other foot and brings his boot down on Simon's fingers  _ hard,  _ getting enough leverage to tug his leg back. Simon scrabbles for purchase and manages to latch onto Jace's boot, but that doesn't matter when Jace slips his foot right out of the shoe and hops to his feet in one smooth motion. With absolutely no finesse whatsoever, Simon pulls his hand back and launches the boot right at Jace's head, providing that split second distraction that gives Simon the time to stumble to his feet. Jace grunts when the boot clips him over the head and lands to the ground with a thump. 

"Did you just throw my shoe at me?" Jace blurts out, aghast, his eyes wide. 

Simon huffs a humorless laugh, inching forward a bit while Jace glares at him. "You do what you gotta do, man. Desperate measures and all that." 

Jace flicks his gaze over Simon's shoulder, no doubt realizing that what stands between him and the soul sword is Simon. "It's not desperate times. Get out of my way, Simon. I don't want to hurt you." 

"You're going to have to if you want to get to that sword," Simon says, watching Jace wearily. 

Blowing out a deep breath, Jace shakes out his hands and surges forward. Simon goes solid, taking the brunt of Jace's hit, shoving him back with all his might. Jace skids back a few steps, then launches forward again. It's clear that he's not doing much more than trying to get past Simon, genuinely trying not to hurt him, but Simon deflects every push against his defense with the borrowed strength from Jace's blood. 

Clary can be seen on the sidelines, pacing around them in a circle, no doubt wanting to help somehow. But there's nothing she can do. If she gets too close, Jace will use her as a distraction and they all know it. 

Jace apparently gets tired of being pushed back because he stops for a moment, his chest heaving as he stares at Simon. Again, he says, "Get out of my way." 

_ "Make me,"  _ Simon says defiantly. 

With a growl, Jace marches forward and puts his hands to Simon's chest, shoving him back a step. "Move!" 

"No," Simon says firmly, knocking Jace's hands away. 

Again, Jace shoves him. "Stop being an idiot, and let me do this, Simon!" 

_ "No,"  _ Simon grits out, pushing Jace's hands away and taking two more steps forward. 

"Simon," Jace whispers harshly,  _ "please."  _

"I can't," Simon says softly, taking a deep breath as he stares into Jace's anguished eyes. "I'm sorry, I just  _ can't."  _

Jace closes his eyes for a moment, his throat clicking around an audibly dry swallow. He takes in a shuddering breath and opens his eyes. "I'm sorry, Simon," he says. 

Simon's eyes widen. "Jace, don't--" 

It's too late. Jace whips his leg out, knocking Simon's feet from under him. Simon hits the ground hard, sprawling as all the air gets knocked out of his useless lungs. He wheezes as he tries to reach for Jace, but he grasps empty air as Jace does a flip over him, landing perfectly at the sword. He throws a look of regret over his shoulder, holding Simon's gaze, then reaches out to grab the sword and unsheath it. 

"No!" Clary screams. 

Simon cries out, trying to push to his feet, but he freezes when the sword starts glowing. Jace stares at it in horror, his lips parting, then he gasps when the sword lets out a pulse. It sends Jace sailing backwards, the sword clattering to the floor as he lands, still and silent. 

"Jace," Simon croaks, crawling over to him on his hands and knees, his eyes wide. "Jace!" 

Clary slides to a stop at Jace's side, reaching out to shake his shoulders. "Jace, wake up!" 

They both go silent at the sound of footsteps. In unison, Simon and Clary's heads whip around to watch as Valentine limps towards them. He's clutching his side and wearing a grim expression as he approaches. 

"My son," Valentine murmurs, his lips curling into a smirk. "He's nothing if not predictable. When this is over, Clarissa, do tell him I said thank you for activating the sword. And you, Simon, I told you this would work." 

"What are you doing?" Clary breathes out. 

Valentine comes to a halt, looking down at the sword by his feet. "What must be done." 

"Clary," Simon whispers, reaching out to grab her hand. 

"Simon," Clary chokes out, tears filling her eyes. 

Dragging her in, Simon hugs her over Jace's still body, putting his lips near her ear to whisper, "Distract him." 

When he pulls away, understanding dawns in Clary's eyes and she blinks rapidly. She gives a barely-there nod and swallows thickly, slowly pulling away from Jace to push to her feet. She holds her hands up as if she's surrendering, putting her entire focus on Valentine. 

"Dad," she rasps. 

That does the trick. Valentine goes very still, his head snapping up as he looks at his daughter. "Clarissa?" 

"Dad," Clary says again, softer, "please don't do this." 

Simon holds his breath as he slides his hand down Jace's arm, his fingers shaking as he peels back the sleeve of Jace's shirt up slowly. Without thinking too much about it, he puts a finger over each fang-mark, internally wincing as he digs his nails in. He adds pressure, pushing in until blood rises to the surface once again and starts pooling down Jace's fingers. 

The smell makes Simon's head spin, makes his fangs drop, but he fights it. He takes shallow breaths and watches as Clary and Valentine have a stand-off. He waits and hopes, pressing in harder until he feels Jace's body twitch in response to the pain. Relief surges through him, and he shifts a little, waiting on the balls of his feet. 

"Clarissa, I'm doing this for  _ you,"  _ Valentine murmurs, trying to smile at her. 

Then, without preamble, he dips down and dives for the sword to scoop it up. Simon pounces, launching forward to throw himself at Valentine. He can't fight him and win, but he can delay the process of what Valentine plans to achieve. That's precisely what he does. 

They go down in a tumble of limbs, and Simon kicks the sword away as Valentine snarls in anger. Clary tries to come forward, but she wrenches to a halt when Simon cries out in pain. Valentine tugs on his arm until he pulls Simon's shoulder out of socket, and he squirms without finesse. They get turned around, limbs flailing as they both try and fight, and it ends as abruptly as it started. 

Valentine yanks him to his feet, his hand holding Simon's dislocated arm to keep him from moving while his other hand is wrapped snugly around Simon's throat. 

"I'm getting that sword," Valentine declares firmly. 

Simon stares into Clary's eyes, trying to get her to understand, willing her not to do anything rash. He knows it looks bad, but this is the best possible outcome for them. They're turned in the opposite direction, the sword and Jace behind them. This can work. 

"I can't let you do that," Clary tells him, her eyes blazing with anger and determination. 

Valentine bends Simon's injured arm some more, making him whimper in pain. "If you try and stop me, I'm going to kill your best friend." 

Clary's fear suddenly drains from her face. Slowly, her lips curl up, and she says, "No, you're not." 

Simon jolts in Valentine's hold when Valentine jerks, letting out a gasp. There's a guttural sound and the grotesque sound of Valentine coughing up blood. His grip on Simon goes slack as he chokes out a wheeze, then he tumbles away, dropping to the ground with a thud. 

Simon cradles his shoulder with a hiss, slowly turning around to see Jace holding a seraph blade that drips with blood. He's pale, but otherwise unshaken. 

"Simon," Clary says softly. "God, are you okay?" 

"Your arm," Jace mumbles, dropping the blade and stepping forward to reach out and gently clasp his elbow. Simon stares at him. "I have to put it back in place. It's going to hurt." 

Simon nods. "Just get it over w--ah!" He huffs at the feeling of Jace shoving his arm back into place without much warning. "Shit,  _ ouch."  _

Jace grimaces. "Sorry, I--" 

"You killed him," Simon murmurs, his arm already healing. "Jace, you actually--"

"No," Jace interrupts, looking over his shoulder to where Valentine is. "He's not dead. The stab wasn't fatal. I want him alive for the Clave to interrogate." 

It's true. Simon has to strain his ears, but he can hear the faint sound of Valentine's heartbeat. If he doesn't get healed soon, he'll die. 

"The soul sword," Clary says, walking over towards it to peer at it warily. 

"Don't touch it." Jace tightens his grip on Simon's arm, his throat bobbing. "It's still activated. We need to leave it for the Silent Brothers to examine. I--I--" 

Clary stands up, her face softening. "Hey, you didn't know, Jace. Only someone with pure angel blood can activate the soul sword, which means you don't have demon blood at all. Valentine  _ lied  _ to you." 

"He was going to use me to--to kill the downworlders. I almost--" Jace cuts himself off, his nostrils flaring. 

"But you didn't." Simon reaches out to touch Jace's arm, frowning at him. "It's okay, Jace. It didn't happen. Everyone is fine and everything is over." He cants his head to the side, listening to the sounds of pounding feet coming from the halls. "There are people coming. Alec is probably with them, so he'll know what to do." 

Clary releases a little delirious huff of laughter, a smile lighting up her face as she beams at them. "We did it, we really--it's over," she whispers. 

Simon smiles softly. "Yeah, Fray, it's over." 

* * *

The Clave officials let him out after the sun has risen, but they do say he can stay until the sun goes down again. He quickly rushes out of the room with all the air in his lungs punching out of him. That "conversation" with the Clave officials had felt too much like an interrogation for his comfort, but he's just glad it's over. 

At least things will calm down now. 

Plus, on the bright side, he gets to check on everyone before he has to leave. From what he's heard, Maia was injured in a fight with a circle member outside, as well as two werewolves and a couple of fair folk. The Shadowhunters are taking care of them, apparently on Alec's orders  _ and  _ the Inquisitor's. Thankfully, there were no casualties and everyone will heal perfectly fine. 

Simon heads straight for where he last saw Clary. She's still posted at Maia's bedside, quietly talking to Luke, who nods when he sees Simon. 

"How is she?" Simon asks as Clary pushes to her feet and walks over to give him a quick hug. 

_ "She  _ is fine," Maia croaks from the bed, cracking open her eyes to smile wryly at Simon. "I'm good, seriously. It's just a scratch, that's all." 

Clary looks tired, but her smile is genuine. "She'll be fine. Me and Luke are looking after her. How are you?" 

"Fine," Simon tells her. "I've been told that me and the other vampires are going to be allowed to stay here until nightfall, so that should be fun." 

"You know where my room is. You should go take a nap, get some rest." Clary squeezes his hand. 

Simon clears his throat and shrugs awkwardly. "I was actually going to, uh, go find Jace." 

Clary raises her eyebrows. "Were you?" 

"I just want to make sure he's okay." Simon sighs when her eyebrows hike up higher. "I'm serious, Clary. He saved my life, so I should check on him. It's the  _ least  _ I could do." 

"Alright," Clary murmurs, her face softening. "The last I knew, he was with Alec." 

Simon grins at her. "Thanks." 

He gives Luke and Maia his well wishes and goodbyes, then heads out of the room. People are bustling around, talking, full of activity. They all seem in higher spirits, Shadowhunters and downworlders alike, and it makes Simon's chest warm with hope. 

He doesn't expect the world to change overnight, but he knows that Valentine being brought down will certainly help matters. Maybe something like this will bring more people together, more than just the core group of his friends. He wants to believe that it will because that's a world that feels safer, that he dreams of, that will make all this fear and loss worth it. Valentine may be gone, but his bigotry will no doubt linger; Simon just hopes that they'll all find a way to overcome it. 

He catches sight of Raphael across the room and pauses. He's talking to Izzy, and they both look on the verge of tears, apology clear on their faces. Simon watches as they both share a respectful nod, small smiles, then separate and walk away from each other. 

Well, okay then. 

Unwilling to stand around and wonder what that was all about, Simon continues forward, keeping his eyes peeled for Alec. He thinks he won't find him in the midst of all these people, but he locates him only moments later. He just so happens to catch Alec in the middle of making out with his boyfriend, which does Simon no favors at the moment. With a sigh, he turns away. 

That's when he spots him. 

Jace is standing in a corner, leaning against the wall as he looks around the room with a small frown. There's a wrinkle in his eyebrow, one that practically screams self-depreciation, and Simon heaves a sigh. Only Jace would be able to look at all of this and still blame himself for what  _ could  _ have happened. 

Simon heads towards him, shoving his jittery hands in his hoodie pocket. It doesn't take Jace long to notice him, but when he does, the frown deepens. If Simon didn't know any better, he'd think Jace was angry with him, except he  _ does  _ know better, and he knows the only person Jace is angry with is himself. 

"Any news on Valentine and the soul sword?" Simon asks calmly as he comes to a halt beside Jace. 

"The Silent Brothers have the sword and are planning to deactivate it their way," Jace tells him stiffly. "Valentine is imprisoned in Alicante now. The Clave will find out everything he knows, and then they'll execute him." 

"You won't have to do it after all," Simon mumbles. He swallows thickly. "I'm sorry. I should have never asked you to kill your own father, Jace. That's not fair to you." 

Jace stares straight ahead. "The  _ only  _ reason he's alive is because I know he has more information. Him being alive for a little longer could save lives later. Otherwise, I would have killed him whether you asked me to or not." 

"You're pretty fucked up, you know that?" 

"I know." 

Simon sighs. "Jace, not like  _ that.  _ I'm talking about the fact that you're blaming yourself for something that didn't even happen. Stop it. Just...stop. You saved my life, you saved  _ everyone,  _ and you were prepared to die so that downworlders would live. And somehow, you still have yourself convinced that you messed up?  _ That's  _ why you're fucked up, not anything else." 

"I almost damned all the downworlders." Jace flicks a weighted gaze to Simon. "And you. I almost--" 

"Well, that's why Clary and I stopped it," Simon says easily, bumping his shoulder into Jace's. "You never hurt anyone, so just stop hurting yourself, okay?" 

"I hurt you," Jace whispers tightly. "When you were trying to stop me from touching the sword, I fought you. I shouldn't have." 

"Well, hey, I threw your shoe at your head." Simon snorts when Jace's lips twitch. "And I hurt you to wake you up. We all did what we could to save the world, Jace." 

Jace releases a deep sigh, tilting his head to the side, glancing at Simon curiously. "I don't know if you did. I mean, before I activated the sword, we thought I could deactivate it." 

"Right." Simon clears his throat and averts his gaze. 

"But you wouldn't let me," Jace continues, shifting closer to catch Simon's gaze. He raises his eyebrows. "Since when do you care so much about me that you'd risk your life, Luke's life, and Magnus', and Maia's--just for me?" 

"It wasn't a risk," Simon snaps. "You were being stupid." 

"I was trying to ensure that Valentine could never use the damn thing. How is that stupid?" 

"You thought you'd  _ die."  _

Jace nods unapologetically. "Yeah, and? How is my one life more important than the entire Downworld?" 

"I'm not talking about this," Simon decides, ripping his gaze from Jace's, his chest tight. He doesn't want to think about this anymore. "It's over and done with. Doesn't matter. You were being an idiot, and I was trying to find another way, that's all." 

"Sure, Simon, whatever you say," Jace says bitterly, shaking his head as he stalks off. 

Simon's tempted to call after him, but he doesn't. He just stands there and watches Jace's retreating back, asking himself why he's so hurt and upset. The truth is, he doesn't know  _ why  _ he hadn't been on board with Jace sacrificing himself. Honestly, one life doesn't outweigh the many, and he'd make the same call if roles had been reversed. But when it came to Clary, and Jace now, apparently, he just hadn't been able to. 

Simon heaves a sigh and lifts a hand to push it through his hair, but he halts the motion halfway through. He stares at the beam of sunshine that comes in through the window, then flinches away belatedly. It hits him then that the sun hadn't hurt, had warmed his skin, and his lips part as he slowly reaches out to push his hand back into the beam of light. 

Tears spring to his eyes, something like awe and relief swelling in him. It feels like it's been forever since he's seen the sun, let alone  _ felt  _ it, and it makes emotion flow through him, unbidden and unstoppable. 

Before he even knows what he's doing, he's blurring through the room and down the hall to the front door, slamming it open and stepping out. He stands outside during the day, unharmed and perfectly safe, and he soaks it up while he cries. 

When his tears stop and his feelings tunnel into one emotion, he rushes back inside. Excitement pulses through him, and he searches around frantically. He doesn't even know who he's looking  _ for.  _ Anyone, he supposes, only for him to catch sight of Jace moving down the hall and immediately change his mind. Not just anyone, no, it has to be him. 

He surges forward with a shout. "Jace! Jace, wait!" 

"Simon?" Jace turns around with a frown, his expression hardening, only to go slack when Simon collides into him. "Simon, what the hell?!" 

"Come with me," Simon pants out, grabbing Jace's arm and tugging on it. "You have to come with me,  _ now.  _ Right now, Jace!" 

"Okay, okay," Jace mutters, rolling his eyes as Simon tugs him along. "What is this about? If you're trying to distract me from the fact that I'm pissed at you, it's really not going to work." 

Simon drags Jace closer to the door, reaching out for it before Jace can protest. With a grin, he grabs the handle and raises his eyebrows. "Wanna bet?" 

"Simon, what are you--Simon!" Jace makes a desperate swipe for him, but Simon just launches himself out of the door. "Fucking  _ fuck,  _ Simon, what did you  _ do?  _ No, no, no. Why would you--" His words filter out as he comes barreling down the steps and sees Simon standing on the sidewalk, perfectly fine. "By the angel..." 

"You still pissed at me?" Simon asks, raising his eyebrows. 

Jace releases a shaky breath, his eyes wide. "How are you not dead right now?" 

"I have no idea," Simon admits, watching Jace slowly walk down the steps. When Jace comes to a halt right in front of him, he shrugs helplessly. "Does it matter?" 

"No, I--I guess it doesn't," Jace murmurs, his voice full of wonder as he reaches out to touch Simon's arms, trailing his fingers over his skin. 

"I'm in the  _ sun,"  _ Simon hisses out giddily, practically bouncing in place from his own excitement. 

Jace stares at him. "You are." 

"This is the best day of my life," Simon declares, then launches himself forward and throws his arms around Jace with enough force to send them stumbling a little. 

As always, as he was the first time Simon hugged him without warning, Jace is skilled enough to catch Simon by the hips and steady them, keeping them on their feet. Unlike the first time, however, Simon is in no way, shape, or form letting go. He feels like he's about to burst out of his skin with how fucking happy he is, and he's not really thinking about what he's doing. 

In the end, he doesn't regret it. He doesn't because Jace slowly, hesitantly slides his hands up Simon's sides and around him, hugging him back. 

They stand there like that for a long moment, and Simon tucks his face into Jace's shoulder, closing his eyes. He has that quiver-y feeling of joy that keeps him from being still for too long, so he knows this hug will end soon enough. For now, he basks in it. 

"Simon," Jace says finally, sounding half-amused and half-awkward. "We should probably--" 

"Shut up," Simon mumbles, pulling back a little to beam at Jace. "Just shut up and let me have this, okay?" 

Jace rolls his eyes, looking fond. "Simon, seriously, we have to  _ tell  _ someone. Or, I don't know, keep you out of sight for a little while, at least." 

Again, Simon just says, "Shut up." 

"Clary will want to--" 

No one will ever ask him what made him to decide to do what he does next, which is a good thing because he has no fucking idea. To be fair, he is still full of energy and chaotic excitement that rips through him like a torrential storm. He's not really firing with all cylinders at the moment, just the ones that lead him to do reckless things that he most likely wouldn't do otherwise. 

Things like reach up and grab Jace's cheeks to hold him in place while he surges forward to kiss him, which is exactly what he proceeds to do. 

Jace makes a muffled sound of shock the moment their lips connect, and it's enough to slap Simon with a healthy dose of reality. He wrenches backwards with wide eyes, his lips parting in pure surprise at his own actions. It has to have been the shortest, simplest kiss on the planet, just a there-and-gone press of mouths. 

Simon lets out a high-pitched sound. "Oh my g--" 

Jace blinks at him, his face entirely blank. They're still just standing there, locked in a sort-of hug that Simon is suddenly too scared to pull away from. In fact, he's completely still, not even breathing, worried that when he moves, Jace will react and it won't be pretty. 

A beat passes, then two, and Simon is just starting to get his brain in order from its panic mode when a warm palm suddenly cups his cheek and Jace's lips press right back into his all over again. Simon's eyes bulge, then flutter shut, and all he can think is  _ oh no.  _

This kiss is not short, nor simple, nor initiated by Simon. It stretches on longer and longer, ceasing all of Simon's brain function and continuing in spite of that. When Jace kisses, he apparently gives it his all because he is not, by any means, doing this halfway. He tilts his head for better access and everything, involving tongue in a much braver way than Simon anticipates--licking into the seam of Simon's mouth and then teasing until Simon returns the favor. And then, just like that, they're fully just making out in the middle of the sidewalk, the sun warming their skin, their bodies drawing closer together. 

Simon makes a small sound in the back of his throat when Jace's hand slides around his head, cupping the back of his neck to pull him in even more. Their chests bump, Jace groans softly, and Simon may or may not whimper in response. 

Without warning, Jace abruptly pulls away. He moves back so quickly and with such force that he actually stumbles back a few steps. He curses under his breath, reaching up to cover his mouth with his hand, staring at Simon in unabashed disbelief. 

Silence stretches between them, and for once in his life, Simon can't think of one way to fill it. 

Jace blinks and drops his hand, clearing his throat, and that seems to break the spell. Quietly, he murmurs, "For the record, Simon,  _ that's  _ how you shut someone up." 

With that, he turns and walks away, going right back inside without another word. Simon stands there, speechless, and realizes that Jace is right. He shut up, alright, and he has no idea what to say next. 

* * *

"What about this one?" 

Simon glances up for a split second, not even really looking at the drawing before saying, "Mhm, looks good, Clary. Definitely the one." 

"You didn't even really look!" Clary squawks in offense, slamming the drawing down and swiveling in her chair to give him her full attention. 

"I totally looked," Simon lies distractedly, glancing out the door to the hallway. 

"I can always tell when you're lying," Clary mutters. She pushes up from her seat and marches over to the door, slamming it shut, then turns to face him with her eyebrows raised. "Simon." 

_ "What?" _ Simon blurts out, crossing his arms over his chest and darting his gaze around the room. He makes sure to look anywhere but at her. 

Clary bites her lip, and he's not sure what he's expecting her to say, but what she says next certainly isn't it. Quietly, she murmurs, "You're not jealous, are you?" 

"Jealous?" Simon blinks. "Of what?" 

There's a stilted silence as Clary slowly looks over to the drawings on her desk, the ones she's been doing pretty much all day as the night approaches. They're all Maia, her in different places, doing different things--smiling at the Hunter's Moon, her head tilted up with intense green eyes, her in her wolf form among the trees, and many more. Some are half-abandoned sketches, while others are fully-done drawings, and they're all for one purpose. Clary means to give one to Maia to try and make amends for their first date, no matter who is to blame, and maybe try for a second one. 

It's actually pretty sweet, all things considered, and Simon would usually be over the moon about Clary having an innocent crush on a girl for the first time, but he's unfortunately distracted about the fact that Jace is supposed to be stopping by at some point. He's the one who volunteered to go by and tell all the Vampires that they are cleared to leave, so at some point, Simon is going to have to see him again. 

That's making it a little difficult to focus. 

But now, with Clary staring at the drawings with a hesitant yet knowing expression, Simon can focus on one thing. His eyes widen as he slowly realizes, and Clary winces instantly, holding up her hands. 

"Simon, it's not--" 

"Oh my g--Clary, you  _ knew,"  _ Simon hisses, his arms falling limply to his sides. "This whole time, you--" 

"Yes!" Clary shouts, raising her voice above his, then lowering it as she inches closer to him. "Yes, okay? I knew. I wasn't sure how to--you never said anything, and I didn't know what I wanted." 

Simon's lips part. "What you  _ wanted?  _ What does that even mean, Clary?" 

"It means that, if you'd asked me a week ago, I might've tried to…" Clary trails off, her throat bobbing as she carefully puts one hand on his arm. "I would have tried, Simon, and I think it could have been great.  _ We  _ would be a good couple, but it would never--I would never…"

"I know," Simon says weakly, smiling faintly. "Trust me, I've always known. It's okay." 

"I'm sorry," Clary whispers, tears welling up in her eyes as she blinks hard. "I don't want to break your heart, but--" 

"What?" Simon balks, his eyes bulging. "No! Clary, no, I'm not in love with you. Not--not anymore." 

Clary's hard blinking pauses, then turns to rapid blinking as surprise steals over her face. "What? You're not?  _ Since when?  _ You--you moved on?" 

"Yeah." Simon feels his lips break into a grin when a relieved laugh falls from Clary's lips. "I kinda realized that it's easier to be your best friend and that's all. I also figured out that you'd never...you know." 

"Simon," Clary protests awkwardly. 

Shaking his head, Simon just laughs. "No, it's fine. I'm over it, remember? We might have been a good couple, I'll give you that, but you'll always love me as your best friend more than anything else. I'm just on the same page as you now, and I gotta say, I like this book a lot better." 

"So, we're...cool?" Clary checks cautiously. 

"The coolest." Simon chuckles when Clary marches forward and hugs him tightly. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head, feeling the soft strands of her hair against his lips. "Kinda upset I didn't get to have sex with you, though. That was a dream of mine, you know." 

Clary pulls back and punches him lightly in the shoulder, rolling her eyes. She pauses, looking around the empty room, then smirks. "I mean, I could probably be convinced to make out with you, just to make sure you're not my long-lost love." 

"A kiss?" Simon purses his lips, then holds up one hand and winks. "What would it take to let me grab your butt just one time? Come on, for past-Simon, who literally would have cried if he ever got to cop a feel." 

"Never gonna happen," Clary says flatly, back to rolling her eyes, though her lips curl up in amusement. 

Simon grins at her. "Then I'll settle for a kiss, preferably on the forehead, please. It's very sweet, you know." 

"Fine, bring your head down here," Clary mutters, waving a hand like she's asking to get this over with. 

"You misunderstand me, Clary Fray," Simon teases, putting on a faux accent, like an Englishman of old. 

Clary raises an eyebrow, but doesn't move when Simon moves forward and cups the back of her head. He draws her close and kisses her forehead, closing his eyes as he does, letting the touch linger. Something in him settles and calms, smoothing over, and the gesture means more to him than he can ever express. He loves her, and he always will, and that will never change; it's just something different and more meaningful than what he thought it was. 

When he pulls away, Clary stares up at him softly, squeezing his shoulder. "What would I do without you, Simon Lewis?" 

"Guess you'll never find out," Simon says easily, stepping to the side and moving over to the drawings. "Now, why don't we take a look at this art and figure out which one will get Maia to propose the quickest?" 

"That is  _ not  _ the goal," Clary says with a snort, moving over to stand beside him, looking down at the drawings. She bites her lip as she picks one up, one where Maia is standing in front of an aquarium, a variety of beautiful fish in the water. "Although, it would be pretty cute if we  _ did  _ get married one day and she kept the drawing." 

Simon coughs to hide a bark of laughter, though by the sharp looks Clary throws him, he doubts he covers it well enough. "Well, if you want my  _ serious  _ input, you should take this one and the one of her in the bar. You can give the others on your anniversary." 

"Oh, shut up," Clary mumbles, but she does grab the ones Simon picks out. After a beat, she throws him a curious look. "Why weren't you giving me your serious input  _ before?  _ If it wasn't because you were jealous, then what was it about?" 

Simon snaps his mouth closed and stares at her with wide eyes. He doesn't know how to tell her that he accidentally kissed her brother, only then to not-so-accidentally make out with him mere seconds after. The situation is confusing enough without him thinking about the fact that Jace and Clary have  _ also  _ made out, which...ew, and that's also not including that they were sort-of pining for each other not too long ago, and the buck doesn't stop there because, not even that long ago, he was in love with Clary himself. 

That's not really something he wants to get into with her right now, or maybe never. Maybe thirty years down the road, he'll bring it up as a joke and everyone can laugh about it, including him and Jace. Until this is so far in the rearview mirror that it's a source of amusement and no mixed feelings, Simon will  _ not  _ be talking about it. 

Thankfully, he doesn't have to. 

A sharp rap on Clary's door jolts them both out of the moment, thankfully, and Simon blows out a deep breath when Clary immediately heads to answer the door. That same breath he released gets sucked back in immediately when he watches the door swing open to reveal Jace, who looks all for the world like he's had a calm day. He's showered recently because his hair is a little damp, and he's in fresh clothes, the color returning back to his face and bare arms--he must have grabbed dinner here. 

"Hey," Jace greets calmly, nodding at Clary before sweeping his gaze over to Simon. He stares for a beat too long, then focuses back on his sister. "Came by to let you and Simon know that the vampires can head out now." 

Clary nods, turning to Simon. "Alright. Call me when you get home, okay? Jace, are you walking him?" 

"Ah, no, actually," Jace murmurs, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear as he smiles slightly. "I'm moving back into the Institute. Apparently, since I'm not the boy with demon blood anymore, the Clave are ready to welcome me back with open arms. Who would have guessed?" 

"I would have," Simon mutters, then ducks his head when both Clary and Jace send him flat looks. 

Clary sighs. "I still hate how they treated you." 

Jace shrugs. "That's Shadowhunters for you. Besides, I'm only moving back in until Magnus can buy the building he's in. I'll rent a room from him on a separate floor from him and Alec. Give them their space, you know." 

"You're not staying?" Clary asks in surprise. 

"I'll be here pretty much every day, but no, I won't live here. Nothing in the rules says that I have to. And, if they won't take me at my worst, then they can't have me at my best." Jace shrugs again, overly casual this time, and Simon can see how bothered he still is about how he was treated by his own people--which is fair. "Oh, by the way, Maia is getting ready to leave, but she asked me to send you her way before she does. I think she wants to talk to you about something." 

Clary's eyes widen and she turns towards Simon, looking obscenely nervous for a girl who's had both the guys in the room wrapped around her finger. 

Simon grabs the two drawings and offers them out to her, his lips curling up. "Go get the girl, Clary." 

"Right." Clary blows out a deep breath and rushes over to grab the papers, pushing up to her tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Simon. Love you." 

"Love you, too," Simon murmurs, watching her fondly as she moves towards the door. 

Clary pauses by Jace, surprising him by leaning up and kissing his cheek distractedly, too. "If you're not still up when I come back, goodnight, Jace." 

"Night, Clary," Jace says easily, regaining his composure and just looking amused as Clary hurries away. 

There's a pause where neither of them look at each other, then they sort of just catch each other's gazes all at once. Jace quirks an eyebrow, and Simon fiddles awkwardly with his fingers, both of them keeping quiet. 

Simon is never very good with silence. 

"I--I should probably go," he mumbles. 

Jace simply nods. "Sure," he says casually, flicking his gaze towards Simon's fumbling fingers, his lips twitching before he looks back up. "See you around, Lewis." 

"Yeah, okay, Lightwood," Simon whispers. 

Jace ducks his head, but not in enough time to hide the soft smile that crosses his face before he turns around and walks up the hall, no doubt heading to bed. 

Simon holds his breath for a moment, waiting for something--for what, he has no idea, but it never actually comes. Then, with a small sigh, he walks out of Clary's room and shuts the door, heading up the hall to leave. 

He's not sure why he's so disappointed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooft, they kisssssssed. 
> 
> So, what did we think, folks? If you enjoyed it, don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave comment; I love them so much! 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are, folks. I worked on this on-and-off for a couple of weeks between other projects, and lemme tell ya, I'm weirdly proud of it. Thanks everyone for all the support and lovely comments! ❤
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy ;)

Jace knows how the soul sword works. He's had it used on himself before, so of course he does. He knows that the right questions have to be asked to get the right answers, that a lie while holding the sword is literally impossible, and yet...he still finds it hard to fathom what he's just been told. 

He stares up at the Inquisitor--his grandmother--and he remembers the cold, detached way she had looked at him, a direct opposite to the warm hunger in her gaze now, like she's soaking up the sight of him and gaining something she lost. He can't look at her very long, so he slides his gaze to his parabatai, the only person that he is willing to lean on right now. 

Alec looks worried. 

"You're absolutely  _ sure?"  _ Jace checks not for the first time, but for the last. When the Inquisitor nods, he reaches up to shove a hand through his hair. "We need to get Clary in here. Now." 

"She's out with Maia," Alec murmurs. 

Jace waits a beat, his mind going blank, then he nods and stands up. "Fine, I'll go find her myself." 

"Jace," Alec says carefully. 

"No," Jace cuts him off, "I'm going." 

The Inquisitor tilts her chin up, releasing a deep breath as if it's the first time she's breathed properly in years. "You're right. Clarissa deserves to know, and she will be informed, I assure you. However, right now, there are important matters to discuss." 

"Such as?" Alec asks, raising his eyebrows. 

"There will need to be a new Head of the Institute." The Inquisitor stares at Jace long enough that her silence gives away her ideas about that topic. "I've also gotten word that you intend to move out, Jace, and I don't think that's in your best interest." 

"I'm not staying here," Jace says simply. "I'm not becoming the Head, either. I am not the man for that position, no matter what my last name is. You know as well as I do who deserves it." 

There's a pause, then the Inquisitor sighs. "Jace, you can't afford to be biased about--" 

"Why not?" Jace interrupts harshly, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "You are. What, just because I'm your grandson all of a sudden, you want to shower me in power and love?" He shakes his head. "I don't think so. I'm not being biased, I'm being  _ right.  _ Alec will make the best Head of this Institute, and we all know it." 

Alec coughs awkwardly. "Jace…" 

"No, he's right," the Inquisitor murmurs, tilting her head to the side as she cuts a calculating glance to Alec. "About that, at least. If you're willing to take the position, then it is yours." 

"I'd be honored," Alec says simply, straightening up. 

The Inquisitor nods before turning her gaze towards Jace once again. "You're wrong about the other things, however. It isn't  _ all of a sudden,  _ it's been that way this whole time. You are my grandson, and that's--" She cuts herself off and swallows hard. "It's important." 

"Sure," Jace snaps. "It is  _ now.  _ Funny, that wasn't the case a few weeks ago when I was tossed from my home by Aldertree with permission from the Clave and the  _ Inquisitor  _ for daring to have demon blood." 

The Inquisitor's eyes sink closed and she presses her lips into a thin line before murmuring, "Jace, you have to understand that--" 

"With all due respect, Inquisitor, I  _ don't."  _ Jace crosses his arms and stares into her surprisingly regretful gaze when her eyes slowly open. "I'll tell you what I do know. You didn't care about me, or my life, or my friends until I became a Herondale. But what you don't seem to know, but will need to realize, is that I'm still the same person I was yesterday--new last name, or not." 

"Jace, I'm simply asking for a chance." The Inquisitor suddenly seems a lot more frail than she usually does. He's always thought that she was made of glass, cold and sharp, but he's forgotten that even glass can crack and shatter. "I know I haven't given you any reason to care, but I'm hoping to change that. My son--" Here, her voice grows strained. "--he meant so much to me. It would be a stain on his memory if I didn't at least try." 

Despite himself, Jace softens, his heart panging at the thought of her loss--and his, he guesses as he considers that she lost a son, but he never got his father. With a sigh, he throws a helpless look to Alec, who simply raises his eyebrows that somehow conveys his preemptive judgement if Jace doesn't go easier on her. 

"Fine," Jace says shortly, lips tipping down when she releases a deep breath. "For--for my parents, I'll let you...be nice, or whatever." 

The Inquisitor's lips curl up briefly, only for a moment, then the shadow of a smile is gone. "It pleases me to hear it. In that case, I must insist that you stay here at the Institute. You should be with your people, and it would be much easier for me to contact you here." 

"My  _ people  _ turned their back on me the moment they found out that Valentine was my father, and whether you want to believe it or not, he  _ is.  _ He raised me, Inquisitor, so all the things they thought about me then are still true now." Jace watches her jaw clench, and he shrugs carelessly. "I may not be a Morgenstern, but I was raised like one before the Lightwoods took me in and raised me as one of them. Unfortunately, I'm more of those names than I am a Herondale." 

"You are allowed to believe that, but you are wrong. You're a Herondale, and it is in your  _ blood."  _ The Inquisitor steps closer to him and stares up into his face, scanning his features. "Your defiance right now only proves it. So like your father, this courage." 

"I'm not him." 

"Perhaps not, but you are made up of him. And, believe it or not, it isn't through you that I'm trying to get him back. I know you are your own person. It doesn't matter to me what you think you are--Morgenstern or Lightwood--because I know that you are  _ Jace,  _ and you are my grandson.  _ That  _ is what matters." 

Jace hates the swirl of emotions that whip through him at that, hates the lump that forms in his throat even more. He swallows and clears his throat before nodding jerkily, just once. "Fine, whatever you say. But just because I'm willing to give you a shot doesn't mean I feel that way about everyone else, not right now. I'm still leaving. If you want to see me in my off time bad enough, you'll have my address. From there, it's up to you." 

"I see." The Inquisitor seems to take this as a challenge, as a test, and she nods seriously. "Very well. I will...check with this Warlock about where you're staying to ensure that your safety is--" 

"No need," Alec cuts in. "Even if Jace couldn't take care of himself, which he  _ can,  _ he has me and Magnus." 

Jace waves a hand. "See? I'll be fine. Don't come on too strong in the beginning, _grandmother,_ or else I'll just go out of my way to defy you. I'm very good at that, just ask Valentine." 

Alec coughs into his fist, though it's painfully obvious that it's a laugh, and the Inquisitor blinks rapidly in clear surprise at his brazen attitude. 

After a beat, she clears her throat and says, "Well, in that case, I won't stay and...come on too strong. Though, if you should ever need me, or wish to talk, I will always be willing to see you." She pauses and stares at him for a moment longer, then nods. "Have a good day." 

With that, she walks away, leaving Jace and Alec behind in complete silence. They don't break it for a long moment, simply staring at each other, then Jace steps back and flops down into the chair. He puts his head in his hands and breathes, pushing his palms against his closed eyes until he can see blots of multicolored lights behind his eyelids. There's the sound of Alec's clothes moving as he does, then a broad hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes. 

Jace takes a moment just to breathe, trying to get his racing heart to calm down. He tells himself over and over that it doesn't matter that he has a new last name, a new set of parents to grieve, a new family member that he has to adjust to. He chants it like a mantra that he's fine, that this will be the last time he has to deal with news like this, that he's  _ Jace  _ and isn't required to live up to whatever expectations that come with his last name. 

He tells himself these things, but he knows it isn't true. 

"Are you going to be okay?" Alec murmurs, instinctively knowing that he isn't at the moment. 

Jace lifts his head with a weak chuckle, blinking his aching eyes. "Sure. I mean, it's not like this is my first time dealing with a new last name. How many have I accumulated at this point? Four? Maybe I'll get married one day and decide to make it five." 

"Knowing you, probably. Most likely as a joke," Alec says gently, his smile fond. 

"Yeah, sounds like me." 

"And it sounds like, one day, this will just be something to look back and laugh about." 

"But not today." Jace swallows thickly and looks up at Alec, his voice growing hoarse. "Not today, Alec." 

"I know," Alec whispers, then kneels down and draws Jace into a hug. 

They sit like that for a long moment, and Jace clings to his parabatai, his best friend, his brother--one of the few things in his life that he's never had to doubt, right along with Izzy. Without them, he doesn't know who he would be right now, and he's thankful that he never will. 

When he feels better, as much as he can right now, he gently pushes Alec back and manages a weak smile. "Maybe tomorrow." 

"Say it every day, and one day it will be true," Alec vows seriously, clasping the back of Jace's neck and drawing them close together, knocking their foreheads together lightly before pulling away. 

Jace nods. "I believe that. But, for now--" 

"Let me guess, you want to know where Clary is." 

"Don't try and convince me that you don't know. You know she's with Maia, which means she told you that, which means you caught her before she left, which  _ means  _ that you made her tell you where she was going before she went. You're just like that." 

"I  _ worry,"  _ Alec says defensively, then frowns. "Don't tell Clary I told you that." 

Jace smirks. "Only if you tell me where she is." 

* * *

It turns out that Clary is one of those hopeless types that will find themselves around their crush at any given moment, even while they're working, because she's at Hunter's Moon while Maia is on shift. Just to hang out, as per what Alec quoted her. She's ridiculous like that. 

It's kind of adorable. 

Jace pauses outside the doorway and stops to consider for the very first time that he and Clary aren't actually siblings. There's relief in that, in knowing that he never desired his sister--on accident, but still. There's also a little confusion. Should he be hoping for something?  _ Wanting  _ something, maybe? 

Perhaps he should wish for another chance with Clary, but he finds that he doesn't. He's let it go, and he knows himself well enough that if he even  _ tries  _ to take it back, it just won't be the same anymore. Plus, Clary has this thing for Maia, which is unbearably cute. 

There's also a little disappointment, he has to admit. For a moment there, he actually kind of liked that she was his sister. Ignoring the weird parts of their situation, he'd actually enjoyed the thought of having a sister who would understand him the way Clary does, who also has Valentine as a father, who probably needs a brother as much as he was willing to have another sister. 

This is going to hurt her, and he knows it. Still, Clary deserves to know. It's her life and her family, and he won't keep it from her.

Taking a deep breath, Jace pushes his way into the bar, automatically looking to the bar. His gaze pretty much immediately lands on Clary, who is leaning against the bartop and smiling as Maia tells her something. There's a full drink in front of her, one she obviously hasn't touched, and it's pretty clear that she's not here for the drinks but for the one who's making them. 

Jace ignores the pulse of regret in his chest and straightens his shoulders. With a deep breath, he heads towards the bar with a determined stride, preemptively feeling guilty for how he's about to ruin her night. 

"Woah, I can't let you do whatever you're about to do!" 

Jace blinks and comes to a screeching halt, his eyebrows raising as Simon slides in front of him with a sheepish expression. He's already fiddling nervously with his hoodie strings, which makes Jace feel infuriatingly insane for some reason, and he clears his throat as he takes a step back, putting some distance between them. 

"You're here," Jace notes flatly. "Why am I not surprised?" 

Simon huffs. "If you  _ must  _ know, I was playing some songs. I was, uh, Clary's ticket in to see Maia." 

"Ah, yeah, that checks out." 

"What are  _ you  _ doing here?" 

"I need to talk to Clary," Jace says simply, then pauses, tilting his head slightly. "And why did you stop me?" 

"Because Clary is in a groove, okay? As her wingman, I literally can't let you interrupt," Simon mutters, grimacing a little. "So, uh, come back later?" 

"Not going to happen." 

"Remember when you said she can't do gay shit if she's dead? Well, she's alive and she's doing gay shit, so for the love of lesbians, please leave her be." 

Jace raises his eyebrows, forcing himself not to laugh, even if it bubbles up in his chest. "One, I'm pretty sure Clary isn't a lesbian, as she also likes guys. Two, I'll leave her alone after I speak with her." 

"Never assume," Simon says with a roll of his eyes. "And you know what I meant. Also, please be a cool big brother and give her, like, ten more minutes." 

"What am I supposed to do for ten minutes?" Jace asks sharply, ignoring the pinch in his chest at Simon calling him Clary's big brother. He isn't, not anymore. He never was. 

"Help me pack up my stuff in the van?" Simon suggests hopefully, jerking his head towards the equipment he clearly used during his sets. "It'll get done quicker, plus Clary will have more time to flirt." 

Jace sighs. "Fine." 

Raising his eyebrows, Jace waves a hand in the universal  _ lead-the-way  _ gesture, and Simon awkwardly coughs as he heads towards the equipment. There's a stilted silence between them that Jace doesn't approve of but won't protest, and he watches on the sidelines without a word as Simon breaks everything down, rolling up cords and disassembling stands. Once everything is ready to move, Jace grabs the first few things that Simon holds out to him, then follows him outside. 

It's a little cool out, but Simon is unbothered as a vampire, his hoodie sleeves rolled up. He stares around warily as they walk down the back alley to the van, as if he expects someone to jump out and attack him, which isn't as ludicrous as it should be. It's not the muggers he's worried about, though. From what Jace has heard (and definitely wasn't eavesdropping as Clary told Izzy, nope), other Vampires aren't taking too well to Simon being able to live in the sun. They all want to know the secret, and some of them aren't above asking violently to get it. 

"So," Simon says with a grunt as he opens the back doors to his van, "what brings you here to interrupt Clary this time? Shadowhunter stuff?" 

Jace frowns as he passes over the equipment. "Something like that. Hey, uh, how's everything going with the other Vampires after you...you know?" 

Simon throws him an arch look. "Clary told you, didn't she?" He sighs. "I  _ told  _ her to stop worrying." 

"Are you in danger?" Jace asks carefully. 

"No. Yes. I don't know." Simon shrugs and slides the last thing in, frowning as he shuts the doors. "Technically, we're always in danger, aren't we? In this world, anyway. Everyone wants an answer, but I won't give them one." 

"Can't," Jace corrects. "You  _ can't  _ give them one." 

"Jace," Simon says softly, pinning him with a knowing look that makes no sense. He steps forward and glances around cautiously, then lowers his voice. "We both know what it was. Only pure angel blood could activate the soul sword, and I--I had some of that blood. Then, suddenly, I can walk in the sun? That's no coincidence." 

"We don't know if that's what it is," Jace murmurs. 

Simon blows out a deep breath. "Yes, we do. But it's okay. I won't tell anyone, no one,  _ never.  _ That would just put a target on your neck, and I won't do that." 

"You really believe I did this to you." Jace can't help but sound a little surprised. Maybe Simon thinks it's a gift, but it could quickly turn into a curse. And yeah, now that he thinks about it, that  _ does  _ sound like him. "Well, if it was, I'm sorry." 

"Don't." Simon shakes his head firmly. "You do not get to apologize for giving me back a part of my life. You have no idea what it's like living in the dark, and now, I won't have to do it anymore. So what if I'm at risk? I don't care. It's worth it, I promise you it is." 

"If you say so," Jace mutters, unable to disguise the discomfited quality to his voice. He doesn't have to  _ like  _ it, no matter how thankful Simon is. 

"They call me a Daylighter, you know. There apparently hasn't been one in a long,  _ long  _ time." Simon chews on the inside of his lip, then mumbles, "I'm going to have to move out of the boathouse soon." 

"Because you're a Daylighter?" 

"Sort of. Some Vampires think I'm--I'm  _ special  _ because of that, and they've been coming by to, uh, pledge their loyalty, or whatever. The wolves don't like it." 

Jace purses his lips, then nods decisively. "Alright, I'll talk to Magnus for you." 

"Talk to--what, why?" Simon blurts out, blinking rapidly as Jace turns to walk back for the rest of the equipment. He darts forward until he's walking beside Jace, confusion written all over his face. "What does talking to Magnus have to do with anything?" 

"Well, he's…" Jace trails off, uncomfortable. He can't believe he's actually doing this. But, sure enough, he already feels the decision set in stone, so he apparently really is. "Magnus is buying his building and becoming the new owner, so he'll collect rent from the old tenants and the  _ new  _ tenants. One of them will be me. You've heard I'm moving out, remember?" 

Simon nods slowly. "Yeah, you're getting a room on a separate floor to give Magnus and Alec their space, which is very mature of you, by the way." 

"Right." Jace rolls his eyes and pushes inside the bar, raising his voice a little. "Well, I happen to know that there are other free rooms in the building, so I'll see what Magnus can do for you." 

"Oh!" Simon abruptly busts out laughing, nearly wheezing by the time he reaches the equipment, weak hands grasping a few things. When Jace stares at him blankly, he pretends to wipe a tear and shakes his head, still chuckling. "Dude, I can't afford one of those apartments, not on my own. Hell, I wouldn't be able to afford one  _ with _ a roommate." 

Jace levels Simon with a serious stare, then firmly says, "That's why I'm going to talk to Magnus," before turning around with the last load and heading to the van. 

Simon sputters in disbelief from behind him. 

By the time he makes it outside, Jace is already almost done putting the equipment in. He holds open the doors and arches an eyebrow when Simon approaches, the microphone stand grasped in hand. After a beat where Simon shuffles in place, Jace rolls his eyes and reaches out to snatch the stand and put it in the van, closing the doors with a deafening finality. 

They stand there in silence for a moment, and Jace finds himself thinking about their impromptu kiss--well, both of them. He has done his best to not think of them because it can be a little distracting. He's not entirely sure what spurred Simon on to kiss him in the first place, nor does he have a clue why he made the executive decision to kiss Simon immediately after but  _ properly.  _ He knows that it was nice, that it's made things strange between them, and that it can never,  _ ever _ happen again. 

Simon is fiddling with his strings again as he says, "Jace, you can't just--just  _ convince  _ Magnus to rent an apartment out to me for, I don't know, a cheaper rate." 

"Ah, but I can," Jace tells him casually. "I'm very good at convincing people to do things." 

"What about--what if I shared with you?" Simon offers, his voice lilting with forced cheer. "I'm pretty neat, and I'd never judge you for coming back covered in ichor. We'd be  _ great  _ roommates!" 

Jace stares at him. "No, we wouldn't." 

"Yeah," Simon murmurs, averting his eyes, "you're right. The only thing I don't understand is  _ why  _ you are." 

"We just wouldn't," Jace snaps. He isn't really sure why, himself. It would be a weird roommate situation, sure, but it could probably work. The problem is, alarm bells are ringing in his head, screeching _'bad idea'_ at full volume, and he's never one to ignore his instincts. "Look, I'll talk to Magnus, then I'll tell you the verdict. For now, I need to go talk to my--to Clary." 

"About what?" Simon asks, still yanking on his hoodie strings obsessively, the sight a maddening one. 

Jace wants to smack his hands away, but refrains. "We learned some things from Valentine, and she deserves to know what they are." 

"What kind of things?" 

"Things she should hear before you do." 

"Well, that's ominous," Simon mutters with a snort, rubbing the frayed ends of the strings until they start to unravel again. "Come on, give me a hint, at least. I can--" 

"Will you just  _ stop?"  _ Jace grits out, marching forward and grabbing Simon's wrists to yank them away from the strings with a huff. "I hate it when you do that." 

Simon blinks at him in surprise. "Oh, my bad." 

Jace scowls at him. "S'fine." 

It's apparently not fine because Jace regrets ever interrupting the erosion of those fucking strings the moment he realizes that they're standing close together, his hands still encircling Simon's wrists, not moving. He's a little thrown by the intimacy, making him clear his throat, even if he's finding it very difficult to pull away. 

"You, uh--you can let my hands go now," Simon whispers, flicking his gaze between Jace's hands and Jace's face, his throat bobbing. 

"Right," Jace agrees softly, then doesn't let go. 

Simon coughs. "Jace--" 

"Yeah, I know, I'm--yeah," Jace says sharply, ripping his hands away and taking a step back. He clenches his jaw against the disappointment that washes through him. 

"I'm going to…" Simon swallows, then licks his lips, then releases a deep breath before turning around. 

He makes it one step before Jace surges forward to catch his arm and swivel him around, words on the tip of his tongue that he has no knowledge of, something to say that he won't understand until it passes his lips. Simon blinks at him, his lips parting like he's about to say something, and Jace finds himself a little stunned to realize that Simon's eyes are actually really pretty. 

Jace thinks of himself as pretty impulsive, and everyone else would agree, but he wouldn't usually consider that a bad trait. Not until this moment where he acts without thinking, fisting his hand in the fabric of Simon's sleeve to yank him forward while his other hand raises to settle on the side of Simon's neck. It all happens so fast that he doesn't even realize he has the urge to kiss Simon again until he's pressing their lips together for the third time. 

The third time's the charm, as the saying goes. 

Jace lets it unfold without thinking too hard about it, stroking his thumb over Simon's jaw as he adds a little pressure to their moving lips. It shouldn't feel as good as it irrationally does, but Simon inhales sharply through his nose while parting his lips, and Jace loses himself to it anyway. Without hesitation, he catches Simon's bottom lip between his teeth and tugs slightly, humming in approval when Simon makes a small sound in response. 

Kissing is nice, Jace  _ knows  _ this. He's kissed many people, sometimes playfully, sometimes for the lead-up to sex, sometimes as a goodbye after sex. There's many different forms of kisses, and he's never had one he didn't like, but for some reason, this one is his favorite. 

He realizes, belatedly, that he's been  _ wanting  _ it. From the moment Simon hauled off and planted one on him, he's been interested in doing it again, and again, and  _ again.  _ It's unfairly good, gets him excited and curious in a way he almost never is, makes it easy to forget the world around him for as long as they're doing this. Right now, right here, nothing else exists besides the way Simon's tongue brushes over his sinfully slow, sending a circuit of surprise and interest through his veins. 

Of course, life would be too simple if he could do this forever, and life is  _ never  _ simple. So, far too soon, he's pulling away to suck in a sharp breath, panting a little in surprise. He's a little lightheaded, having forgotten that Simon technically doesn't need to breathe, even if he does. The break in their lips seems to shatter the moment because Simon pulls away fully, clearing his throat as he reaches up with shaky hands to pat at his hair, despite the fact that it was never touched throughout. 

It isn't until they're just staring at each other, about a foot between them, that Jace remembers that he's not supposed to be kissing Simon again. He'd made that decision, he remembers doing that. 

_ Well,  _ his mind taunts,  _ look how that turned out.  _

This is a problem. He's only just now realizing this, but it is. He can't just go around kissing his not-sister's best friend for some reason unknown to both of them. Well, he  _ can,  _ but it should be for the sole purpose of sex and nothing else, which is where the problem comes in. Jace hasn't been initiating kisses with Simon to fuck, he's just been doing it because...he wants to. 

Big problem. One Jace would prefer to deal with at a later date, as in maybe  _ never.  _

"I'm going to go talk to Clary now," Jace murmurs, inwardly wincing at the rasp in his voice. 

Simon nods. "You, uh, do that," he says with a nod, pressing his lips together immediately after. 

"Right," Jace says nonsensically. 

"Yep," Simon replies casually. 

After another awkward beat, Jace nods jerkily and walks away, barely refraining from pausing by the brick wall and banging his head up against it. 

* * *

The tears stop about halfway into their walk to the Institute, and Jace is thankful. 

Clary has been crying on and off for the majority of this walk, and Jace hasn't been able to help her. He's not entirely sure what it is that pushes her to quietly weep because there are too many options. No longer having someone to call brother, mourning the loss of their potential relationship they'll never get another shot at, or maybe the simply  _ sad  _ fact of what Valentine did--stealing a child, killing families, being a general menace that she has to share a last name with by herself, now. Whatever it is, he can't fix it, and he'll never be able to. 

Instead, he lets her link her arm through his as they stroll towards the Institute, their glamours up to keep them hidden from the mundane world. He waits until her sniffles have tapered off before speaking again. 

"If it makes you feel any better, we're still more sibling than anything else. Valentine is still my father," he murmurs. "He raised me." 

"He's only my father biologically," Clary croaks, squeezing his arm as she releases a shuddering breath. 

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say to make this any easier for you," Jace admits. 

Clary huffs a short laugh. "There is nothing to say that can. I think it's just going to always suck, and not just for me. God, you must be so…so  _ frustrated."  _

"Understatement of the century," Jace mutters flatly, looking over at her with a sardonic smirk. "Our dad is a piece of shit, did you know that?" 

"Yeah, I might've picked up on it," Clary tells him, smiling weakly. "I guess it's nice to find out that I never actually made out with my brother, though." 

Jace snorts. "That's always a relief, yeah." 

"I don't know, I guess it was just nice having a family again, someone to actually be proud of," Clary whispers, looking over at him with red-rimmed eyes. 

"Hey," Jace murmurs gently, "you  _ still  _ have that. Believe it or not, you have a family. Me, Simon, Alec, Izzy, Luke, Magnus, Maia… Should I go on?" 

Clary chuckles and shakes her head. "No, I get your point. It's just… I miss my mom, you know." 

"I know. I'm sorry." 

"And um, by the way, I'm not--we're not…" 

Jace raises his eyebrows at her. "What?" 

"Don't take this the wrong way," Clary starts awkwardly, grimacing a little as she looks at him, "but I'm not going to be into you again. I kind of worked hard to move on from you, and it, uh, stuck. No offense." 

"Clary," Jace says calmly, "I'm not in love with you, nor will I ever be again. Relax, I'm over you, too." 

"Oh, good." Clary blows out a deep breath of relief, then grins at him. After a moment, that grin falls into a frown as her eyebrows crumble together. "I'm going to have to figure out how to be harder to get over because you're the second person who's told me that." 

"Who else--oh." 

"Yeah." 

Jace pauses, a silence settling between them, and he can feel Clary's gaze on him. "Well," he says carefully, "I think you're doing just fine. We moved on because we weren't the ones for you. Maybe Maia is." 

"Maybe," Clary muses, then her gaze somehow feels sharper on the side of his face. "Funny, you knew it was Simon without me saying anything. Why is that?" 

"Who else would it be?" Jace challenges, meeting her gaze head on, refusing to back down. 

Clary narrows her eyes. "You didn't make one snide comment, nothing." 

"So?" 

_ "So,  _ you always take the opportunity to mock Simon. It's, like, your thing, you know." 

"It's not," Jace denies instantly. "Besides, this isn't something to mock him about, especially when I was in the same position as him. Sort of." 

"Uh huh." Clary is still staring at him, her cogs turning obviously, trying to figure him out. "He told me that he took you on a date, you know. And then you invited him to Magnus' party, where he freaked out when he thought he killed you, then hugged you when he found out he didn't.  _ Then  _ you were really upset when Valentine kidnapped him, even if you tried to pretend like you weren't. You went in and gave him your blood without even blinking an eye, and Simon was trying really hard to keep you from killing yourself. And you talk to him these days, I see it, so don't act like you don't." 

Jace glares at her. "Yes, thank you for that quick rundown of my past interactions with Simon, very good. What's your  _ point?"  _

Clary's lips twitch. "I don't know, it just seems a little...different between you two now, that's all." 

"Maybe it's because we're not fighting over you anymore, you ever think of that?" 

"It crossed my mind, but no, it's something else."

"Well, when you figure it out, let me know," Jace mutters with a huff. "Because I sure as hell have no idea." 

That's not even a lie, is the thing. 

"Right, well, on an entirely separate note, absolutely  _ nothing  _ to do with this conversation," Clary tells him in an overly casual tone, "I've got a pretty big crush on Maia. Like, a really big one. And, even if I didn't, I wouldn't really care if, say, someone were to, uh, make a move on my best friend, who honestly deserves it." 

Jace reaches over and shoves lightly at her head, ignoring it when she giggles and dodges his next swipe. Under his breath, he mutters, "You're evil." 

"So are you," Clary retorts in mock offense. 

"Yeah, well, I guess we had to get some qualities from our father," Jace declares sarcastically. 

Clary stares at him, blinking her green eyes up at him, then she busts out laughing. The sound is loud and messy, full of disbelief and unabashed amusement, and Jace can't help but laugh with her. 

* * *

"Well, I think that'll do it!" 

Jace shares a look with Alec as Magnus flops onto the leather couch in the center of Jace's new living room, a martini appearing in his hand before he even makes it all the way into the seat. He crosses his legs, peering around the room to survey his work with open pride. 

To be fair, Magnus has done a really good job with this place. Jace isn't exactly as design savvy as Magnus and Izzy are, so when Magnus had snapped a catalogue in front of him with instructions to pick out what he wanted to furnish his apartment with, he didn't get much farther than a new bed before he was a little lost. Magnus had insisted there had to be  _ themes _ and  _ ambiance,  _ and his lists of Do's and Do Not's were more complicated than the entire Shadowhunter Codex. 

Jace had finally crumpled under the pressure and admitted that he had no idea what he was doing, to which Magnus had sighed mournfully before offering his help. He'd made Jace pick out specific furniture, then gave his decorative options, then ran with it from there. Overall, it actually looks really nice--Magnus calls it industrial with a touch of art deco, whatever that means. Either way, Jace likes all the open space and the black, so he's pretty pleased with it. 

"Again, Magnus, I can't thank you enough," Jace murmurs, not for the first time. "This is really… I appreciate it, I really do." 

Magnus flicks a hand carelessly. "This was more fun for me than you'll ever know, my dear. You can thank me by never being late on rent. See to it that you're not." 

Jace rolls his eyes. "You literally have access to my account information; you can just take rent when you want." 

"Where's the integrity in that?" Magnus tuts dramatically, then tips his head back to peer over his shoulder at Alec with a smile. "Come along, darling, sit with me. I'm sure Jace doesn't mind our company for a little longer. We should have a drink to celebrate." 

Alec waits all of two seconds before he's flopping down on Jace's couch beside Magnus with a sigh, lifting the beer in his hand as a salute. "They grow up so fast." 

"Oh, fuck off," Jace grumbles, biting back a grin as Alec shares a smile with Magnus. 

"So, you mentioned earlier that you wanted to talk to me about something," Magnus murmurs, leaning into Alec's side and peering at Jace curiously. 

Jace coughs and moves over to sit on his chair-couch hybrid that Magnus calls a lounge chair. It's actually really comfortable. "Right," he says once he's settled, "it's actually a favor. Well, sort of. It'll benefit you. I think." 

"And I thought he was the confident one," Magnus says to Alec, then focuses back on Jace with a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Go on." 

"So, the other day, I ran into Simon," Jace starts. 

Magnus hums. "This should be good." 

_ "And  _ he told me that he's planning on moving out really soon," Jace continues sharply, narrowing his eyes when Magnus hides a smile behind his glass. Alec just looks between Magnus and Jace in blatant confusion. "He said the wolves are giving him a hard time because he has a cult of Vampires worshipping him because he's a Daylighter. Since they're kind of going where he is, the Werewolves are getting upset, and they want him to go." 

"Yes, that sounds about right for them." Magnus still looks amused, dipping his head. "Though, the cult is a bit of a surprise, I'll admit." 

"I'm paraphrasing," Jace says carelessly. "Anyway, he doesn't really have a plan of where he's going to go next, and um, well…you know…" 

Magnus nods as if he understands completely. "Right, of course. We do have open apartments here, so he's more than welcome to one. I'm sure he'll be a good tenant." 

"See, the thing is, Simon's kind of...um, broke," Jace admits awkwardly. "Not--I mean, he makes  _ some  _ money because he does gigs and sometimes offers accountant help online for a small fee, but otherwise…" 

"Note that I said we have  _ open  _ apartments, not  _ free  _ apartments," Magnus tells him, arching an eyebrow. "I can't just give a home to every hopeless case that crosses my path, you know." 

"Why not?" Jace asks sharply. "You did it for me." 

Magnus sighs. "You didn't exactly  _ ask,  _ Jace." 

"A thing I regret, truly, but I'm also not asking this time, either." Jace feins nonchalance and sinks back into his chair, crossing his legs at the ankles. "Help him." 

"It's not Magnus' responsibility," Alec snaps, glaring at Jace in genuine anger. "He doesn't  _ have  _ to do it, and you're not going to make him. If Simon can't afford it, then he can go somewhere else." 

Jace grits his teeth. "Where else is he going to get protection? This is the High Warlock's building! No one will try and kill him for being able to walk in the sun if he's here, if I--we can keep an eye on him." 

"Jace, since when do you  _ care?"  _ Alec mutters, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Jace in disbelief. 

"Darling," Magnus says softly. 

"No," Alec cuts him off, "I'm not going to sit back and pretend like this makes any sense. Simon Lewis is  _ not  _ your problem, or mine, or Jace's." He pins a judgemental look on Jace. "If he's in danger, then he has to be careful, he has to learn how to protect himself, because we can't help him  _ unless  _ someone tries to hurt him. I know he's Clary's best friend, but he's not--" 

"It's my fault!" Jace explodes, making Alec flinch in surprise and Magnus raise his eyebrows. "He's  _ my _ responsibility, okay? He's only a Daylighter because he had some of my perfect Angel blood, and he's only in trouble because of  _ me.  _ Just--just give him an apartment for half the rate, please, that's all I ask." 

"You have an extra room," Magnus suggests calmly, gesturing lazily towards the hall where the guest room is across from Jace's room. "Have him pay half your rent and watch out for him here. Isn't that smarter?" 

"Absolutely not," Jace says firmly. 

Alec scoffs. "It  _ is  _ smarter, and you know it. If you're so worried about him and putting all the blame on yourself again, for no reason, then you can do it from your own home. Just because you don't like him doesn't mean--" 

"That's not--" Jace cuts himself off and takes a measured breath, closing his eyes as he searches for some semblance of calm. It takes a long moment for him to get his shit together, but once he does, he opens his eyes and continues. "Simon and I can't live together. We just can't. If it's going to be that much of an issue, then I'll pay what he can't. Does that work for you?" 

Magnus cants his head to the side, watching Jace in a very curious yet knowing manner. It's unsettling. "You're willing to pay your rent, plus half of his rent?" 

"Money isn't an issue," Jace snaps, "and he can't know."

"Oh, I know that," Magnus says easily, casually playing with the speared olives in his drink. "It's just that this is very important to you, that he is safe. Close, but not too close. Helped, but not knowing it's at your hand. It's all very dramatic, if you ask me." 

Alec frowns at Jace. "This isn't about Clary, is it?" 

"No," Jace murmurs, "it's not." 

"Oh,  _ come on."  _ Alec groans and slumps back into the couch, heaving a sigh of despair. "First the redhead mundane from hell who  _ isn't  _ actually mundane, and now the mundane idiot from my nightmares who turned into a Vampire. By the Angel, Jace!" 

Magnus pats Alec's hand comfortingly. "It was either one of them or the bartending Werewolf, Alexander." 

"I actually  _ like  _ her," Alec mutters. 

"I have no idea what either of you are talking about," Jace admits, rolling his eyes. 

Alec picks his head up from the couch and looks at Jace for a beat, then shares a look with Magnus before, in unison, they both say, "You will." 

Jace scowls at them. "Do we have a deal or not?" 

"I'll make a better one," Magnus offers. "I'll give Simon his apartment half-off, even the first month free, no utilities or anything. After all, it's not really about the money for me, either." 

"Okay," Jace says slowly, "what's the catch?" 

Magnus smirks. "I decide which apartment he gets." Alec coughs into his fist, which sounds suspiciously like  _ you're meddling,  _ and Magnus shoots him a look before arching an eyebrow at Jace. "So, do we have a deal?"

Jace waits a beat before saying, "Deal." 

* * *

The deal with Magnus comes back to bite him in the ass, which honestly should not surprise him. 

He spends all of a week in his apartment, blissed out in his own space, before things take a sharp turn. He's just returned from a mission with Alec, and since he's not the Head of the Institute, he's allowed to go home and get cleaned up. There's something really nice about it, about puttering around his quiet apartment, reaching in his fridge to grab a bottle of water, walking to his lounge chair to sit down with a sigh and relax. 

It's being at  _ home.  _

However, his moment to relax comes to halt only moments later when there's a knock at his door. He huffs and curses under his breath when some of the water spills out onto his naked chest, his skin warm and tight from his recent shower. Clicking his tongue, he swipes the droplets away the best he can and pushes to his feet, pulling his joggers up a bit as they tend to hang low on his hips. 

He doesn't really think about who could be at his door. Could be Magnus stopping by, or even Alec if he's on his way to Magnus', or maybe a neighbor. The nice lady with two kids across the hall has stopped by once to ask if he had any use for a wooden pallet that her rambunctious children--her words--had brought home from school for no apparent reason. He had been too polite to say no, especially when he saw the exhaustion in her expression, apparently very tired of her children bringing useless things home. So, now he has a wooden pallet in his guest room that he hasn't quite figured out how to get rid of yet. 

Either way, he's not at all expecting anything surprising behind the door, which should have told him that it would be exactly that. 

He peels open the door to see Simon, who has a polite expression on his face, then watches that expression melt into shock--complete with parted lips, wide eyes, and pure surprise. Then, after a beat, Simon looks at Jace from head-to-toe, sucks in a sharp breath, and makes a weak choking noise that honestly does wonders for Jace's ego. 

"Simon," Jace mutters in surprise. 

"Are you  _ crazy?"  _ Simon hisses, reaching out to put his hand on Jace's very bare chest and  _ push.  _ "Go put on a shirt! You--you can't just walk around like that!" 

Jace huffs in surprise and offense. "Uh, excuse you, I actually can. This is  _ my  _ apartment." 

Simon scowls at him and looks from left to right, glancing down the hall, then steps into the apartment to slam the door. "What kind of--no, you know what, it doesn't matter. Shirt,  _ now.  _ Have some freaking--I don't know--manners, or something!" 

"Hey, I didn't invite you in here. Get out." Jace points to the door, narrowing his eyes. 

"Wrong lore, my dude," Simon says, then points towards Jace's hall. "Find a fucking shirt, or so help me g--" 

"Alright, alright," Jace growls, throwing up his hands before stalking off to his room, muttering under his breath about invasive vampires with attitudes. He finds a tank-top, which feels like a rebellious thing to do because it's not exactly a shirt, then pads back out to the living room and holds his arms out. "There, I'm covered. Happy?" 

Simon narrows his eyes at the tank-top, but he wisely doesn't comment. "Ecstatic. What if I had been Ms. Geraldine up the hall? You could have given her a heart attack, you know." 

"You know Ms. Geraldine?" 

"Yes, of course." 

"Huh." Jace blinks, then frowns. "So, you've been here for a while?" 

"No, I just moved in today," Simon says, shooting him a weird look. "She made me eat a cookie, but she really means well." 

"Wait, just today? You moved in  _ today,  _ and you already know Ms. Geraldine?" 

"Yes, Jace, it's called being neighborly. Why, when you did you meet her?" 

Jace stares at Simon in astonishment. "I've been here for a week, and I just met Ms. Geraldine  _ yesterday."  _

"Did she give you a cookie?" 

"No." 

Simon smirks. "I like her more and more." 

"Oh, whatever," Jace grumbles, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "Why are you on this floor, anyway? Go find your own Ms. Geraldine to call neighbor." 

"I live on this floor, Jace." Simon raises his eyebrows and points to Jace's door. "Right across the hall, in fact. Ms. Geraldine  _ is  _ my neighbor, and so are you."

Jace's brain does a record-scratch, immediately denying this as the truth. The nice lady with two rambunctious kids lives across the hall, not Simon. Well, unless Magnus moved them to a bigger apartment, which is something he would do because he's a terrible,  _ terrible  _ person. 

"Oh, I'm going to kill him," Jace decides. 

"Who?" Simon instantly waves a hand and makes a face. "Nevermind, don't tell me. Best if I don't know." 

Jace sighs. "What are you doing here, Simon?" 

"Well, I met everyone else, mostly by coincidence, so I figured I'd stop by here. I was trying to make sure I didn't get serial killer vibes from any of my neighbors." Simon eyes Jace in a very pointed fashion. "There's always one." 

"Says the creep who barges into people's apartments and makes them put on clothes," Jace retorts. 

"First of all, it's not barging in if you leave the door wide open, and don't even say me pushing you in was wrong because I was just trying to make sure no one saw you.  _ Second,  _ I made you put on a shirt because I barely survived the sight and I'm  _ dead;  _ Ms. Geraldine wouldn't make it, and I'm fond of her already." 

"I want to argue with you, but you're just aggressively complimenting me, which I like, so I'm going to let you have this one." 

Simon snorts. "Smart." He glances around the room, his eyebrows rising. "Nice place you got here. Very, uh,  _ you."  _

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jace narrows his eyes. 

"Lots of black, kinda minimalistic, plenty of space. Very Jace. Actually, it's kind of working for me." 

"So glad I got your approval." 

"I knew you would be," Simon says distractedly, swiveling his head as he looks around some more, unabashedly curious. Finally, he turns to stare at Jace and asks, "So, a tour?" 

Jace pauses, then shrugs. "Sure, why not?" 

There's not a whole lot to show off, not really, but Jace does his best. He starts in the kitchenette that branches off from the living area. He's not the asshole who will show off all the food in his fridge to the Vampire who can't eat it, but he does make sure Simon takes a look at his coffee-maker because he's stupidly pleased with it. He takes him to the bathroom next, standing in the doorway with the light flicked on so Simon can poke his head in, give a perusing glance, then back out to move on. The same situation happens with the guest room that Izzy has slept in twice already since Jace has moved in, then they stop by his bedroom. 

It looks a lot different than what any bedroom he's had before. More lived-in than at Magnus', and less spacious than at the Institute. It's actually pretty homely, all things considered, and he'd made sure to get a nice bed that he could fall into at the end of the day. It does wonders for his mood, honestly. 

"Oh," Simon says softly, his gaze zeroing in on something and not straying. 

It's at this precise moment that Jace remembers that Dave Buster is still on his nightstand. The stuffed bear had somehow survived the move and also found its way to sit up by his lamp next to his bed, and no, he has no idea how that happened. He's been meaning to move it, he really has, but he somehow always ends up forgetting to do it. 

Jace scrambles his brain for some excuse or reason that won't make him look like an idiot, which he cannot find, so he ends up just muttering, "Um." 

"You kept Dave Buster," Simon notes calmly. 

"I--yes," Jace admits carefully. "Magnus didn't want him. He's not really a stuffed animal kind of guy." 

"You asked him to keep Dave Buster?" Simon asks, his head whipping around so he can look at Jace in open betrayal. 

Jace feels stupid for the amount of guilt that slams into him in response to that look. "Well, no, but I just figured he wouldn't. No big deal." 

Simon's betrayal melts. "Ah." 

"So, anyway," Jace says quickly, clearing his throat as he leans forward to grab his door handle, "this was my bedroom, last stop on the tour. You probably should get home. It's pretty late and--" 

Jace does not get to say much more because a mouth is suddenly on his--Simon's, specifically--and it derails all brain function pretty much immediately. It also is so nice that his eyes flutter shut and he makes a small sound in the back of his throat as Simon crowds him up against the door. His hand on the handle tightens until it makes a weird, creaking noise while his other hand lifts up to fumble for Simon's hip, drawing him in closer. 

He's a little dazed; this, he can admit in the confines of his own mind. It's far too easy to get wrapped up in the strangely delightful newness that comes from touching Simon and kissing him. It's like he doesn't realize how much he wants to do it until he does, then he just wants to do it more, then he's stuck in this endless loop that leaves him nothing more than a structure of yearning that he barely recognizes. 

Simon kisses him until he rips away with a gasp for air, then turns his kisses to Jace's throat, and Jace has a painfully visceral reaction to that. He doesn't even realize he's letting out an embarrassing wheeze that's more of a whine than anything until he hears it himself, and by then, Simon has already lifted back up to kiss him again, swallowing the end of the noise. 

Jace realizes that they're not going to make it out of this room. It hits him then and there, as Simon licks into his mouth, that they have absolutely no other obligations--no need to get out of the sun, no reason to part so one of them can talk to someone else. This is just them, and Simon lives right across the hall, and they're not going anywhere but the bed. 

It's also at this precise moment that Jace understands what Alec and Magnus meant by,  _ "You will."  _

Jace now knows  _ exactly  _ what they were talking about. He can't really miss it at this point. That being, his apparently very in depth feelings about one Simon Lewis that he somehow missed, that somehow crept up on him when he wasn't paying attention. 

So, yeah, that's just  _ great.  _

"Now's a good time to remove the tank-top, Jace," Simon pants out the moment that he pulls away from their kiss, blinking rapidly like he can't believe he's here and those are words he just said. 

Jace is having a little trouble processing that fact himself, but he still manages to breathlessly joke, "But I thought you barely survived the sight." 

"If I die, I die," Simon declares, reaching down to tug at the hem of Jace's tank-top insistently. "At least I'll die happy this time." 

"So morbid," Jace mutters, then whisks off his tank-top, biting back a grin when Simon makes that weak sound again before slowly reaching out to touch with trembling fingers. 

Simon barely makes contact before he snatches his hand back and says, "We should, uh, extend this tour to your bed. Like, right now, preferably." 

"My thoughts exactly," Jace murmurs, reaching out to fist his hand in Simon's shirt and yank him to bed. 

There's not much talking after that. 

* * *

"You're dead to me." 

Magnus rolls his eyes, his lips twitching. He doesn't even have the decency to look up from his book that he obviously isn't reading. "Come now, my dear, I thought we were friends." 

"You moved out that, uh, nice lady--what's her name--" 

"Stacy." 

"Right, Stacy. You moved her out, probably to a different floor, and moved  _ Simon  _ in!" Jace bursts out accusingly, glaring at Magnus. 

Magnus finally looks up, but his amusement doesn't drain away. "Yes, and? You agreed, Jace." 

"He--we--" Jace stops, holding his breath as he fights every urge not to have a childish fit right then and there like his emotions suggest he does. Finally, after a moment, he can breathe. "Magnus, do you have  _ any  _ idea what you've done?" 

"Yes. I moved Simon in across the hall." Magnus plays with the rings on his fingers and tilts his head, his eyes glinting mischievously. "That's all  _ I  _ did. Why, did something else happen?" 

"Oh, like you didn't know what you were doing," Jace snaps, throwing him a scowl as he paces back and forth in a tight path. 

Magnus hums. "I'm guessing from your dramatics and general air of distress that you slept with him?" 

_ "Obviously,"  _ Jace hisses, whirling around to Magnus and throwing his hands up. "You  _ knew  _ that would happen, which is exactly why you put him there." 

"No," Magnus says casually, "I figured it would take a few days, at least. You two work fast." 

"Why are you like this?" Jace demands, aghast. 

Magnus waggles his painted fingers at him. "It's the demon blood, dear. What's  _ your  _ excuse?" 

"Magnus, I'm actually being serious. I had sex with Simon. I repeat, with  _ Simon.  _ Do you even--can you comprehend how majorly  _ bad  _ this is?" 

"Well, no, not really. I've never had an interest in Simon, so I've never considered the consequences. But you have the floor, so do tell." 

"It's  _ Simon,"  _ Jace growls out, frustrated. 

Magnus stares at him patiently, but Jace is unable to say anything else. "Oh, is that all? Well, if he's so bad by himself and for no other reason, perhaps you shouldn't have slept with him at all. But, hey, I've been there, so who am I to judge?" 

"It's just--we're not friends," Jace mutters. 

"Were you and Clary before you had your first fantasy about her?" 

"No, but Simon's not Clary. Plus, Alec doesn't like Simon. You do know that, right?" 

Magnus arches an eyebrow. "Alec didn't like Clary, either, but you didn't let that stop you. And, if I recall, you weren't my biggest fan in the beginning, and Alec certainly didn't let that keep him away." 

Jace opens his mouth, closes it. After a moment, he just repeats, "It's Simon." 

"What? Bad in bed?" Magnus teases, faux sympathetic. He tuts and waves a hand. "Not everyone will be amazing, this I've learned." 

"No, it was--I mean…" Jace clears his throat and forces a scowl on his face to will away the heat rising in his cheeks. "That's not the problem." 

Magnus smiles. "Good for you." 

"I'm  _ serious."  _ Jace reaches up and rubs at his temple, a headache forming. "He lives right across the hall now, so I'll have to see him all the time." 

"Not really. People have lived near each other for years and never carried on a conversation." 

"Okay, but  _ I'll  _ know he's there." 

"And?" Magnus rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat, apparently bored of being a little shit. "Jace, it sounds to me like you're making a lot of excuses for why you shouldn't be doing whatever it is you want to do with Simon, even when there aren't any reasons to find. You don't have to be friends to care for someone the way you do Simon, though I imagine that you two  _ are  _ and you simply haven't realized that yet. Your friends and family don't have to like who you're...involved with, but I can safely say that yours will eventually come around, Alec included. Simon's apparently good in bed and easily accessible. And honestly, if he was enough of a problem as himself, you wouldn't have had sex with him at the first available opportunity to begin with." 

"Don't do that," Jace mumbles, all the fight leaving him at once, even as the stress lingers. "Don't pull that wise, sensible Magnus Bane bullshit with me." 

"Tell me I'm wrong and I'll take it all back." Magnus waits, his eyebrows raised, and when Jace says nothing, he nods. "That's what I thought. Now, off with you, I have a book to read." 

Jace glares at him as he heads towards the door, and just before he slams it, he shouts, "The book is upside down, asshole!" 

* * *

Two days pass without word or sight of Simon, and Jace's tension only rises by the hour. He keeps an eye on Clary, waiting for any sign that Simon told her anything, but she acts as she usually does. The only sex she talks about is the lesbian porn she's been watching in preparation for her first time with Maia, which she keeps swearing will eventually happen, and Jace honestly wishes it just  _ would  _ so he can stop having to hear about it. 

Finally, on the third day, Jace has had enough. Whatever is going to happen needs to happen so he can stop worrying about it. He marches across the hall and knocks on Simon's door. 

It's a good idea right up until a pretty girl with brown eyes and wavy hair answers the door, and Jace's heart suddenly plummets to his stomach. She's wearing pajamas and looks very comfortable, like she's ready for bed. If Jace isn't mistaken, she's actually wearing one of Simon's shirts, and the sight makes a lump form in his throat so quickly that he goes into a coughing fit right then and there. 

Staring at her, Jace realizes that his very in depth feelings for Simon are a lot deeper than he thought--which, at this moment, is proving to be a very huge issue for him. 

_ Ouch,  _ his heart pangs mournfully. 

"I'm sorry, did you need something?" the girl asks cautiously, raising her eyebrows at him. 

"Becks, who's at the door?" Simon's voice floats out from inside the apartment. "Come on, I don't want visitors, I want to wallow!" 

_ Oh,  _ his heart tells him, perking up immediately. 

"Becky," Jace blurts out, breathing easier as the realization strikes. "Right, you're his sister." 

"Becky, who is it?!" Simon calls out again. 

"Some hot, blond guy who knows I'm your sister, apparently," Becky shouts over her shoulder. 

There's a beat of silence, a thump, then a low curse before Simon appears behind Becky with wide eyes. He clears his throat. "Oh, Jace, hey." 

"Wait,  _ this  _ is Jace?" Becky whispers, looking Jace over in surprise and approval. 

Simon laughs a little nervously and lifts a hand to wrap around Becky's head, clamping it down on her mouth as he smiles tightly. "I might have, um, mentioned you once or twice. Anyway, what are you doing here?" 

"I came by to see if you had a moment," Jace admits slowly, looking between Simon and Becky in faint amusement. "I can see you're busy, so I'll just leave you to it." 

"Oh, okay, well--ouch!" Simon draws in a sharp breath and yanks his hand away from his sister, gaping down at his finger before staring at his sister incredulously. "You bit me!" 

"Don't mind him," Becky says easily, smiling at Jace warmly. "You should come in. We were just hanging out, nothing special." 

Jace blinks. "Uh… Well, I don't want to intrude or anything. It's fine, really." 

"You might as well come in. Becky will just figure out a way to get you over here if you don't," Simon says with a sigh, shrugging sheepishly. 

"He's right,” Becky confirms with a solemn nod, completely shameless. 

“Right,” Jace murmurs warily, giving Becky what he hopes is a smile and nodding. “Lead the way. I can't, uh, stay long.” 

Becky steps back and waves him inside, looking over her shoulder to scan him curiously. “Do you have plans?” she asks casually. 

Admittedly, Jace is a little caught up in looking around Simon's apartment. He suddenly understands how a place can feel like a person because this apartment feels very  _ Simon.  _ It's not exactly neat, but there's an organized chaos to it, so to speak. Sure, there's a sock lying in between the couch cushions, but the books on the shelves are organized from big to large, looking like staircases. There are a few posters up on the wall of guitars, and Simon's fridge has alphabetic magnets that hold up a variety of pictures. 

This apartment has basically the same layout as Jace’s, if not a bit smaller, and he must not have an extra room because he has a whole corner of his living room dedicated to his band equipment. Overall, the place has a very scatter-brained, yet warm feeling to it, and Jace barely hears Becky’s question because he's looking around. 

So, he distractedly says, “Uh, yeah.” 

“Well, you can stay for one drink at least, right?” Becky asks, drawing his attention. 

Jace blinks at her. “What? Oh, yeah, sure.” 

“Becky,” Simon says, that one word a warning. 

“I'll get the drinks,” Becky announces, winking at Jace and ignoring her brother entirely. 

Then, just like that, she's gone. Well, not  _ gone,  _ not really, because she just walks over to the kitchen and opens the fridge, but Jace suddenly feels very alone with Simon. They stare at each other for a moment in complete silence, then Simon clears his throat and shuffles in place. 

“Hi,” he offers carefully. 

“Hey,” Jace replies quietly. 

Simon laughs a little nervously, his fumbling fingers going right for his fucking hoodie strings like he has no idea what that does to Jace for reasons unknown. “So,” he murmurs, “you met Becky. She's, um--she can come on a little strong.” 

“She's nice,” Jace decides, flicking his gaze over to her while she fights with a cork in the wine bottle she's holding between her thighs. His lips twitch and he glances back over at Simon. “Does she know anything about you?” 

“No, nope,” Simon says quickly, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “She's just home for a few days, and I missed her, so I invited her to sleep on my couch for tonight before she goes and visits Mom. Plus, it's good for my cover that she sees this, tells Mom I'm living on my own and going to college, that sort of thing.” 

Jace nods. “Yeah, that's smart.” 

“I just wanted to thank you for--for helping me get this place,” Simon blurts out, tugging insistently on his strings, his gaze slowly crawling to Jace. He can't blush, but he shows every sign of one with his entire demeanor. “You've kind of solved pretty much all of my problems. Well, most of them. I'm safe here, and my family won't worry, and hey, I have a bed now, so that's nice.” 

“I didn't really do anything,” Jace lies calmly, holding Simon's gaze. “It was all Magnus. You should thank him, not me.” 

“You still asked.” 

“I told you I would.” 

“Well, still.” Simon pauses, chewing his bottom lip like he's trying to figure out what to say next, which is doing Jace absolutely no favors, and his fingers continue to pull at those strings. “Thank you anyway, I guess.” 

“You know how you can thank me?” Jace asks, waiting for Simon to freeze and look at him with wide eyes. “You can stop messing with those strings on your hoodie. It drives me nuts.” 

Simon instantly drops the strings and threads his hands together, clearing his throat. “Sorry, habit.” 

“A nervous one, I'm guessing.” 

“Yeah. Why do you think they're so worn? I'm pretty much always nervous.” 

“I noticed,” Jace mutters, then sighs. “Simon, I wanted to--” 

“Got it!” Becky suddenly appears next to them, holding out a glass to Jace while sipping out of hers. She beams at them. “Just one drink, right?” 

Simon sighs. 

“Right,” Jace tells her, reaching out to grab the glass and peer at the wine inside. “Just one.” 

“You should sip. It tastes better that way,” Becky informs him, doing nothing to hide her grin. 

Jace takes a sip and echoes Simon's sigh. 

* * *

“No! No  _ way!  _ Not my Clary Fray,” Becky declares with a squeal, gaping at Simon's phone with pure excitement on her face. “She bagged  _ her?”  _

Simon nods, then makes an  _ eh  _ sound. “Well, sort of. They're basically dating, but haven't really called it that, yet. They haven't had sex yet, but Clary is pretty much smitten.” 

Becky laughs in delight, passing Simon his phone back as she shakes her head in astonishment. “God, I didn't even know she liked girls. I mean, good for her, and it would explain why she was never into you.” She grins and reaches out to ruffle Simon's hair. “Her loss.” 

Simon snorts. “Oh no, she likes guys. She just didn't like me.” 

“Oh, baby brother,” Becky says with a click of her tongue, throwing Jace a grin. 

Jace hides a smile behind his third glass of wine, perfectly content to sit back and watch Simon interact with his sister. There's something oddly sweet about their dynamic, and it's amusing to watch them bicker back and forth. It reminds him of himself and Izzy, or Alec and Izzy. 

_ “Anyway,”  _ Simon mutters, rolling his eyes, “I have a bet with Izzy--uh, a friend from college--going on. She thinks they'll be married within a year, and I'm only giving it eight months.” 

Becky rolls her eyes. “If they're not even  _ dating,  _ you can't aim that high. I'll take a shot in the dark and give it close to two years.” 

“Well, they're dating without dating. Clary’s planning to go to her apartment for a dinner not-date, then hopefully stay over.” Simon waggles his eyebrows. “If you catch my drift.” 

“You and Clary know too much about each other,” Becky says decisively. 

“Not everything,” Jace mutters, though the words slip out louder than he means them to because Becky and Simon turn to look at him. 

“You mean--” Becky looks between Simon and Jace, then blinks rapidly before gaping at her brother. “You didn't tell  _ Clary?  _ Oh god, you  _ always  _ tell Clary.” 

Simon groans and facepalms, waiting a beat before speaking through his fingers. “Becky, please shut up. Please, just--” 

“She has a point,” Jace puts in, staring down at his wine with a small frown. 

“You know why I didn't tell Clary,” Simon snaps, dropping his hand to glare at Jace. “Funny, she hasn't called me asking any questions.” 

“Clary’s not my best friend,” Jace mumbles. 

Simon arches an eyebrow. “Did you tell Alec?” 

“Basically,” Jace replies sharply, waving a hand carelessly. “I told Magnus, which is the same thing. So, try again.” 

Becky coughs. “I don't know who half of these people are.”

“You want me to tell Clary?” Simon scowls, completely ignoring his sister as he fumbles for his phone. He holds Jace’s gaze, a challenge sparking in his own. “Fine, I'll tell Clary. Why don't I just call her?” 

“I'm not stopping you,” Jace retorts. He leans back in his chair, watching Simon intently, waiting for him to back down. 

Becky makes an uncertain noise. “Uh, Si, maybe you shouldn't--” 

“Clary?” Simon says into his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jace. “Hey, yeah. No, Becky is still here, but so is Jace.” He pauses, snapping up straight as Clary says something. “Well, actually, I have something to tell you. Apparently, I should have told you sooner, but by the way, I fucked your ex-boyfriend turned brother turned ex-brother.” 

Becky blinks. “Say what now?” 

“Oh shit,” Jace mutters, nearly choking on his wine as he surges forward to stare at Simon in equal parts of distress and disbelief. 

Simon appears to be listening to whatever Clary is saying, and then his face goes slack as he quietly says, “What? I mean,  _ yes,  _ it was good, but--” He halts, his head snapping up as he looks between his sister and Jace, then stands up to walk away, his words growing distant. “--that's not what…” 

“Boy, do I have some questions for you,” Becky says faintly, turning towards him in blatant shock. 

Jace clears his throat. “Um, I'm probably not the best person to answer those questions.” 

“No, you're perfectly capable.” Becky surveys him for a moment, then heaves a sigh. “I see the way you look at him, and quite frankly, it's a little disturbing. No sister wants to see their brother being looked at like--like  _ that.  _ Like you'd prefer him to be naked at all times.” 

Jace, unfortunately, is capable of blushing where Simon is not, and he does so now. “Right, sorry, I--I didn't really realize--” 

“Relax,” Becky says easily, “I have a boyfriend, too. I get it, we're young and in love and ready for the next round at all times. Makes sense. The only problem is, I don't really get the  _ young and in love  _ part from you, which is throwing me off.” She takes a moment to gulp down some of her wine, watching him curiously. “Now, you're either not feeling those things, or you're really good at hiding it. So, if you want my stamp of approval and advice--and trust me, you do--then you're going to have to tell me which one it is.” 

“Oh…” Jace swallows thickly and stares at her, suddenly having no idea what he's supposed to be doing in this situation. Finally, for a lack of anything else to do, he opts for the truth. “Well, uh, I'm really good at hiding things. Actually kind of trained to do it, really.” 

Becky nods. “Gotcha. Okay, so it's simple. Simon? He really,  _ really  _ likes you. He won't say it, but I know that pipsqueak like the back of my hand. He seems a little scared for some reason, but with that whole Clary conundrum, I guess that's fair. So, my advice? Go forth, be happy, don't hurt each other, and most of all, have fun.” 

She punctuates her words by taking another gulp of her wine, then she sits the glass down and pushes to her feet. With a wink and no other words, she heads down the hall, leaving Jace alone.

He thinks about her words, then downs the rest of his wine without even flinching. If only the Clary conundrum was the problem. That's never been the problem. He can read between the lines, and he knows what Clary meant that night he told her they weren't siblings. He's been doing his absolute best not to think about it, but he knows. 

Simon's fear comes from the same place that Jace’s does. There are more reasons why they should  _ not  _ have A Thing than why they should. Just because they may want to can't be enough. 

Jace is a Shadowhunter, Simon is a downworlder, and they are not Magnus and Alec. They used to  _ very  _ strongly dislike each other, and now they live right across the hall from each other, and they both have their own problems to deal with--Jace with his new family name, Simon with being a Daylighter. There are so many reasons stacked against them for why they shouldn't, and yet… 

Simon suddenly steps from the hall, plucking at his stupid strings again as he meets Jace's gaze with a sheepish one of his own. 

“Did you tell Clary I said hi?” Jace asks sarcastically, and that's another reason. They bicker way too much.

Simon huffs and jerks his chin to the door. “No, I didn't, but she wanted me to tell you, and I quote,  _ told you he deserved it.  _ Any idea what that means?” 

“Yeah, I know exactly what that means.” Jace sighs and stands up. “I take it that this is my cue to leave?” 

“Wow, you sure know how to read the room,” Simon mutters, marching forward to open his front door and stand beside it with his jaw clenched. “Have a night.” 

Jace raises his eyebrows as he heads towards the door. “Have a night? Just  _ a night?”  _

“Well, I'm not wishing you a good one,” Simon mumbles petulantly, then flicks his gaze to Jace. When he sees that Jace is coming closer, he starts tugging on his strings again. 

“Look,” Jace murmurs, stopping by the door, right in front of Simon, “I didn't think you'd actually do it. Besides, I knew she wouldn't be upset.” 

Simon looks down at the floor, rubbing the strings between his fingers in the way that makes Jace snap every time. “Yeah, well, good for you.” 

“Simon--” 

“No, you know what? I'm not angry about me rising to the bait that  _ you  _ set. I'm not even angry that Clary apparently gave you some sort of permission for you to have your way with me. I'm not even--”

“Hey,  _ no.”  _ Jace steps forward, ducking his head to meet Simon's eyes. “It's not like that. She hinted that she thought things were, um, different between us, then made a stupid joke. That's it. I never asked for permission, or planned to  _ have my way with you  _ at all.” 

Simon frowns at him. “Well, you did. Why?” 

Jace stares at him, taking a moment to recover from that blunt question. “Are you complaining? Because you sure weren't at the time.” 

“I'm not the one who left the next morning,” Simon says tightly. 

“I went to go get breakfast,” Jace admits slowly, arching an eyebrow. “When I got back, you were gone. So, technically, you  _ were  _ the one who left.” 

Simon blinks, then purses his lips. “Okay, fine. So, what do you want from me?” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“I don't know.” 

“Well,” Jace says with a sigh, “let me know when you figure it out.” 

With that, he turns and walks out the door, refusing to linger when there's no point. Simon can pull on his strings all he wants, but Jace won't push for something he knows won't work. It's just a bad idea, and he knows it. 

The door shuts behind him. 

With each step that brings him closer to his own door, he tries to picture a world where he and Simon  _ could  _ work. The more he thinks about it, the less wild it seems, which is distressing. For all their bickering, they're good at making each other smile and laugh. So what if Simon is a Vampire and he's a Shadowhunter? That literally has nothing to do with anything, nor is it anyone's business, and maybe that's just the kind of thinking that keeps a divide between them. And sure, they have their problems, but they always have, and it isn't like they haven't helped each other out before. 

The door behind him suddenly flies back open, and Jace turns around in surprise, watching Simon walk out and close it. He freezes in the hallway, tugging on his strings in an almost frenzied manner, and his eyes are incredibly wide. 

“Jace,” he says. 

That's  _ all  _ he says, but it spurs Jace into action. He surges forward and wraps his hands around Simon's wrists, halting him from messing up his strings even more. 

“I swear on my life, if you do not  _ stop  _ with the strings, Simon,” Jace snaps, irrationally annoyed and strangely turned on for no reason. 

Simon drops the strings and lifts his hands, pulling them from Jace’s grip. He hesitates a moment before cupping Jace’s face in both palms and whispering, “I figured it out.” 

“Okay, I'm listening,” Jace replies evenly, though his heart tattoos his ribs at a rapid beat. 

“I want more quiet moments,” Simon tells him softly, “and I want you to want them, too.” 

Jace suddenly recalls Simon once saying that it's the quiet moments when someone falls in love, and he'd replied that he didn't get quiet moments. But that's not entirely true, not anymore. 

He's had quite a few quiet moments recently, especially with Simon. Usually when he doesn't notice, but pretty regularly. Strolling along after a date he hadn't been aware he was on, a brief time on the couch at Magnus’ after a particularly loud moment, a soft conversation leaning up against a van, sitting in Jace’s old room at Magnus’, a bite that erased the world around them, standing in the sun with their lips pressed together, a goodbye that had felt heavy, a reunion while loading a van, a tour, simultaneous release that had stolen their breath, that bubble of warmth the next morning where they had wrapped around each other in sleep, and now, right now… 

So many quiet moments that Jace hadn't even put much stock into, and those are the moments that led him here, to proving Simon right about those being the moments that make you fall in love. 

And now...now, Simon wants more. 

Jace breathes out, “I already do,” and leans forward to catch Simon's lips with his own, his eyes shutting as the kiss turns soft and quiet, encompassed in a promise and something more. 

Simon's entire body relaxes, and he slides his hand down from Jace’s face to wrap around his shoulders, pulling them closer together, as close as they can get. Jace slips his arms around Simon's waist and kisses him for all he's worth, saying with a kiss what he can't with words, and this is a much more eloquent way to communicate. 

Eventually, however, Simon pulls away slightly, brushing their noses together before murmuring, “I actually have to go. My sister is waiting.” 

“Tomorrow,” Jace suggests, opening his eyes and staring, swallowing thickly. 

Simon nods. “Tomorrow,” he promises. 

* * *

The timer on the oven goes off in the midst of Alec snickering at Jace, which is very good timing, in his opinion. He gives a quick excuse and slips away, rolling his eyes as he picks his way through his overcrowded living room. 

Simon and Izzy are in the middle of a board game, both of them laughing between each turn. Magnus is regaling one his undoubtedly insane adventures to Clary, who's locked in entirely from Maia’s lap. Maia, however, seems a little distracted by her phone, though her arm is loosely wrapped around Clary’s stomach, holding her steady as she moves around in excitement. 

Jace finally makes it to the oven, grabbing the oven mitts Maryse gave him to tug out the cookies that Imogen had left for him to warm up. She'd even written down specific instructions on how to warm them up, what temperature and for how long, down to the second. They're chocolate-chip, and they smell amazing. 

Imogen has been sure in her apparent need to be in Jace’s life. Though it's often awkward, she makes sure to visit him every week. They usually talk about his parents, which can end in tears, or they make idle conversation about things that won't make either of them cry. When she'd heard about this little get together, she'd insisted on bringing him cookies beforehand, which is actually really nice when he thinks about it. As Simon says, she's being very grandmotherly. 

“Cookies are done,” he calls out, sitting the pan down and tugging the mitts off. 

Maia’s head snaps up. “Cookies?” 

She fully shoves Clary off her lap and heads straight for the kitchen, ignoring Clary's halfhearted, yet fond grumbling. Izzy abandons her game, making Simon throw up his hands, and Alec eases his way over to peer down at the pan. All at once, all three of them reach for the cookies, then they all curse under their breaths and hiss as they drop them, sucking on their fingers. 

“That's hot,” Jace tells them with a smirk. 

Immediately, they all start bitching, talking over themselves, braving on to pick up a cookie and toss it from hand-to-hand. Jace shakes his head in amusement and slips away, making a beeline for Simon, flicking Clary on her ear as he passes her. She swats his hand out of the way, still focused solely on Magnus with wide eyes. 

Simon greets him with a smile, tilting his head back. “Are the cookies good?” 

“Haven't had one,” Jace admits, dipping down to drop a quick kiss off on his lips. “What were you and Izzy playing?” 

“Trouble,” Simon says wryly. “Wanna take her turn? I was winning, by the way.” 

Jace shakes his head. “Nah, mundane games aren't my strong suit.” 

“It's adorable that you think you have a strong suit. Face it, Jace, you suck.” 

“No, you do. Literally. And I'm good at things.” 

“Really?” Simon's eyes dance with humor as he reaches out and catches Jace's hands. “Do tell.” 

“Fighting, sex, and knowing when to shut up. You're only good at two of those things.” 

“It would be one if Clary wasn't still training me, but I'll take the compliment.” 

“Greedy,” Jace teases, letting Simon pull him down for another short peck, their lips curling up when they connect. 

Simon grins when they break apart. “I am not.” 

_ “Oh, Jace, I want more moments to fall in love,”  _ Jace mocks, pitching his voice high.  _ “I want more space, so let me move in with you. I want more sex, so let's spice it up with--”  _

“Okay, okay,” Simon laughs, hitting him lightly in the leg, “I get your point. And, for the record, those handcuffs were a good idea, and you know it.”

Jace nods, giving him that one without a playful fight. “Fair enough. Though, I have to wonder, what will you want more of next?"

“Doesn't matter,” Simon says brazenly. “You'll give it to me.” 

“Yeah, probably,” Jace admits. “But only because I'll want it, too.” 

“Hey, schmoozers!” Maia calls out, making their heads swivel automatically. “Quit being grossly in love and come eat cookies with us.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jace tugs Simon to his feet and sighs, while Simon mutters, “Can't have one damn quiet moment to ourselves.” 

Jace just pats his shoulder. “Nope, not one.” 

* * *

(It turns out that what Simon wants more of next is weddings. Following Magnus and Alec’s, and Clary and Maia’s, he comes to the conclusion that he would like one of his own. Jace, of course, gives him this, but only because he wants it, too. 

He doesn't gain a new name this time, deciding instead to share the one he's proud of, and Simon still kisses him before whispering, “Love you, Lightwood,” right at the altar. 

Jace smiles against his cheek and murmurs, “I love you too, Lewis-Herondale.”) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. Done 😊 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed the ending and had a good time. With this insane world being the way it is, I decided to keep these chapters short and post every day, that way at least some people would have some content every day to get lost in for a little while. I hope it's helped in whatever way possible, and a big thanks to everyone who's commented and will in the future. 
> 
> As per my usual sign-off, I hope you enjoyed reading this, and if you did, don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and leave a comment; I honestly cherish every single one. 😍❤
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


End file.
